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Sunday, July 24, 2005


poem (c)
Living in the dying embers, and breathing the last of the oxygen around. Dying in the green grass and oxygen then becomes used.
Life is sucked away as the water rains down, on to my head from a barrel of what ever is above me. I love to simply stay by myself, confort new wounds and rip old ones open. Flying in ecstacy as this pain takes over me, I lived as I had sijmply to pass the time.
Dreaming of a place faraway where green eyes look at me and silky hands pick me from disaster but this dream is only there to comfort me. Living in a place shrouded by dreams, surrounded by meaningless existence in emptiness of a heartless plain.
Waiting so long for a passing heart to throw me a line that will hold, and never fray. Distancing pain in a small bottle replaced by lonliness, a small silver bottle emptied made to an ocean. But I pray for a day to grow and know when the time to fly away has come, so I may but a cap on those bottles.

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