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i found an old picture
of you on a forgotten
camera, how we never
cease to remember the
sweet things.
(c) Brooke Otto
A frozen day-- in Winters May,
No light in the horizon,
The darkeness knew it was the day,
Even now -- its like a posion -- eating, dying, going away.

A cold dark Winter's May,
Every day I just lay and lay,
The crack has sealed itself
The light is mourned-- it has dimmed itself

A cold dark Winters May,
The wind goes on so fickle
Time has been and passed -- day, by day, by day,
A sad, lonely, winters May...
Eternallucidity
I'm starting to dream in color
swimming in Silvia red night gowns
and dancing into silhouettes of purple and crimson.
psychedelic actually,
if you take the time to think within that perspective.
it's like a toned-down rave set in slow motion by overdose.
and where are you?
are you passed out on the lawn in front of some closed down swapmeet?
did the flicker of insomnia turn you off like a light switch you hadn't paid the bill for?
who now, will answer your phone or pay homage to your quips
or late night phone calls to God?
I wish I could say that I relayed the message
but my nerves never were enough.
I wonder if the angels ever picked up on the twisted games you played on their names.
Many people never bothered to decipher it all.
But on occasion I did.
When the time was convenient,
when the moments were dull.
I delved into it.
I tried anyhow.
Forgive me for never letting you pass.
For standing arms and legs wide apart to halt the inevitable.
I wish for so many seconds
that I was there to do something,
to show something,
some inkling of understanding through sarcastic grimaces.
To you, who will read this and play dead for flair,
may you call upon me from the imaginary casket when you get this.
Fore I do see that you could never leave like that.
creative commons
It’s done.

The cold feeling came back,
Only this time it is here to
Stay. Forever.
Come back to salt old wounds
That never healed properly.
Believe me to be a mistake,
it can only cause harm.
Sabotage the life I had,
Collage it into something ugly.
Pick apart my own Heart
Shredding it to pieces and then
laying them on
A mirror.

I beg you.

Gaze into the hole where
My soul used to sleep, for
I wander the deserts alone now.
Searching for Nothing
So that I may find comfort in
Death.
No.
Prayers are beyond me.
Answers that are never heard
By deaf ears and numbed mind.

Twilight is gaining,
But by the time She arrives,
I will be no more.
And you will have forgotten me
altogether.  
It’s done.

— The End —