and i ask of you
who are you
why are you here
and what does this poem mean to you?
are you sitting in your bed crying
or writing silent words in
the palm of my hand when im not looking
do you stare at blank papers all day
wondering why
the letters dont form on the lines
and if you are irratated
do you push it all away
and will anything get any better?
ever?
ever?
will it.
you gotta work
she tells me
gotta put some effort into things.
thats just the thing.
i cant. dont ask me why i dont know.
i just cant.
i cant go on dying like this
or living with out a hand to hold
and knowing i will nbe stuck inside
my own mind forever.
relief would be a hot bath
or a pair of bloody sheets
or maybe just the feeling of
your knuckles
pressed against mine.
or maybe
relief is just the sound of the piano in
a ben folds song.
so i ask you.
who are you.
why are you here
and what do you want from life.
we cant all go on dying like this.
it's killing me.
it's killing us.
6:51 pm - 06.04.03
Recent entries:
Babs! - Thursday, May. 06, 2010
Golden Heads - Wednesday, Dec. 23, 2009
doublee - Saturday, Dec. 12, 2009
alone, I shine. - Thursday, Aug. 27, 2009
save me. - Sunday, Aug. 16, 2009
My profile
Archives
Notes
Diaryland
Random
RSS
others:
girlinmoon
blurrystars
ditchinmitch
windofmysoul
alwaysinhim
collaborate
jumpinheart
songofmysoul
charles-dee