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RedshiftPoems
upon the witching hour, the delirious stroke of noon... i promptly lost my mind. i rambled up and down the library isles trying to find somewhere to hide. all my precious yellow cubbies were full of degenerates texting on their phones talking too loudly for a library unknowing of the fact that if i didn't have my yellow cubby i didn't have an anchor. i guess i'm ok now some odd, flightly demon tried me on for a bit made it hard to breathe hard to think hard to be but once i looked in the mirror saw my freckles my speckled eyes my friendly nose i knew what i was once more. it wasn't the one girl standing next to me, washing her chapped hands talking to me about english class that brought me back it was me all me. i raised myself from the dead all i did was lift my head.
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Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 2:57 PM UTC
on coming back to life
upon the witching hour, the delirious stroke of noon... i promptly lost my mind. i rambled up and down the library isles trying to find somewhere to hide. all my precious yellow cubbies were full of degenerates texting on their phones talking too loudly for a library unknowing of the fact that if i didn't have my yellow cubby i didn't have an anchor. i guess i'm ok now some odd, flightly demon tried me on for a bit made it hard to breathe hard to think hard to be but once i looked in the mirror saw my freckles my speckled eyes my friendly nose i knew what i was once more. it wasn't the one girl standing next to me, washing her chapped hands talking to me about english class that brought me back it was me all me. i raised myself from the dead all i did was lift my head.
Written by
Redshift
F/American
Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 2:57 PM UTC
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