Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Sickness and Waste

The tipping pearls are gone.
The memories of the twirling paradise remain with me. (to put it bluntly)
My world of possibilities have vanished with the tides inside my head.
A foamy sea of fluid, drowns me. (too soon?)
The more I put in, the more I am drained (and nearly drowning.)
I'd like to be someone you could finally learn to love again.
We've put up walls on all sides (thick barriers of clay and wood.)
Leading a life, which picks up all of the little pebbles and carries them inside a shoe. (it's a size too small)
In my mind, I'm the lucky one.

Where will I find you again, Stranger? (roaming alone again?)
In this hopeless bulb, I'll find the strength to see that it won't ever happen anyway. (because I gave up)
It's as though I've never seen you before, but I have and I want to forget. When I can't drown it with anything else. anceieierussithdsw. I'm cool because I can be weird and write things small. Weirdness is in.

I am scarred by the rough edges, I'm taken over by fragility. (Please)

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