8/29/2010

I won't speak.
Tender little itchings.
I wanted to scratch.
You took the ground from beneath my feet.
I wanted the painted.
I lied. I'm sorry.
Leave me to hide my somethings.
So my thoughts can compile.
Leave me to go down ALONE.
I shouldn't have let it get this far.
What have I done to myself this time.
I wished on the blackest burning star.
I've gotten burnt and bruised.
This heart is useless meat.
I needed to believe.
Please don't ask me why.

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