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Saturday, January 1, 2005


short story/poem thingy about how I feel
I love the dark. It bathes me with a type of innocents that the light takes away.
I lye in my bed feeling my smooth skin, making myself believe that my arm was never tainted with things unimaginable, making myself believe that I’m normal, and that my canvas is clean. But its not, not in reality at least, however this isn’t reality, this is my dream, a place where I have never hurt deep within my heart.
Can these things I wish ever become real, no I doubt it, I’m meant to suffer for the scars I’ve imprinted into my life vessel.
Can things be erased once they have happened? Can I start over again at the beginning?
These questions run through my head, constantly colliding together causing a jumble of thoughts, as I lye here in my bed looking at my dream that will disappear in the light.

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