I write these words
and my fingers feel like they are clinging to the edge of time
as though they clutch a cliff
dead falls in my conscience stretch out for days
all the moments become lost..
I'm drifting in my silent sea
building memories from the sunlight
it strikes me that terror springs from the mind
unknown phantom of the dark
cunning specter of a wild howl
right outside my window
the hunger
How uniquely human
how insane and nonsensical it curls through the darkness
in which I am afraid to look in the mirror
In my dreams my lover stands naked in the doorway
does not love me
but instead echoes my heart
the words I never say
she says
I'm so tired
sometimes I feel like nothing but a leaf on the wind
blown about and battered
sometimes I feel nothing
I'm so used to drinking poison I don't believe it when I taste honey
and the sweetness still stings
I fear that I can no longer accept truth without finding it's pain
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 7:49 AM UTC
I write these words
and my fingers feel like they are clinging to the edge of time
as though they clutch a cliff
dead falls in my conscience stretch out for days
all the moments become lost..
I'm drifting in my silent sea
building memories from the sunlight
it strikes me that terror springs from the mind
unknown phantom of the dark
cunning specter of a wild howl
right outside my window
the hunger
How uniquely human
how insane and nonsensical it curls through the darkness
in which I am afraid to look in the mirror
In my dreams my lover stands naked in the doorway
does not love me
but instead echoes my heart
the words I never say
she says
I'm so tired
sometimes I feel like nothing but a leaf on the wind
blown about and battered
sometimes I feel nothing
I'm so used to drinking poison I don't believe it when I taste honey
and the sweetness still stings
I fear that I can no longer accept truth without finding it's pain
