Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Siting in this cold gold-forsaken
place picking up a pen I write
tears dropping on the page.
What's been done over and over
again has finally come to an end
I no longer feel the need to sit alone
yet here I am and so afraid.
This wieght I bare lessens by each
passing day, so why am i still here
in this cold god-forsaken place, wirting
while tears run down my face.
I know why it's 'cause reality has hit
me hard in my face all that has
become of things is your need of
my messed up sweet embrace.