i'd like to think i'm a mess you'd wear with pride
in the blankness a chill of past, hoping not to be the future.
unsung and unsaid for too long, heavy breathed and tired.
a pedistal sits mockingly before me.
i bite my toungue.
ramble on...
Posted by Diaphonous_Me on 2007-12-17 22:27:21 | Rating: | Views: 59