Dec 27, 2004 14:49
Pain makes me small;
it shrivels me like a raisin.
I become an insect
in a world of giants.
I surround myself
with funhouse mirrors.
They crack and their shards
tear deep into my skin,
slicing permanent wounds
through which dreams bleed.
I shroud myself
in a dark blanket of solitude;
afraid to venture out
into the searing sun
of reality.
Leave a comment
Comments 1
(The comment has been removed)
Reply
Leave a comment