miercuri, 2 noiembrie 2011


...and I hate who I'm becoming,
the mess that I reflect,
my broken jaw oozing
unspoken curses
on a silver plate.

...and I hold on to a memory,
a shallow grave for
moans and screams,
I can't believe this nightmare
feeds upon my days!

...and I smother the incentive,
throw away pride's flame,
sleep naked and uncertain
on the iceberg
of my iridescent

...and I don't care if I breathe or close my eyes-
a bloodless heart will always lead
to a troubled mind.

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