|
I found an old poem or short story if you will in one of my writing folders. I thought I might share it with you guys... though I suspect no one is reading what I write... cause there's no comments!! sad Buuut anyway just in case I'll put it down. Please DO NOT STEAL.
[REALITY]
I'm suffocating. Can't breathe. I need to get out, be free. I'm dying, I can't move, My sight is fading. My spirit is weakening, barely alight with life, the fire is being quelled. What can I do? I'm dying, I am dying. What can save me? I need something or someone somewhere to bid my blood to run, to save me from falling, bleeding from the inside out. Draining, drained. Barely breathing, my chest becomes heavy, my brow burns, my sweat is acid on my skin. Smoke flares up inside my mind, consuming my thoughts, controlling my body, leading me into death- the other side. A place that burns my eyes, stills my breath, stops my heart, no more blood pumping through these veins anymore. Perhaps I should end it, end it all. Release my grip on life, my finger nails are breaking from the pressure already. Oh, how easy it would be to give up and fade away, into a permanent sleep for I suffer from restlessness. Just close my eyes and imagine the sunshine warming my toes, the wind messing up my hair. Or, should I imagine the flames licking at my lips, the smoke trailing black tendrils of ash down my legs. But wait, this is nothing imaginary, this is my reality.
by: e.v.a.
 H a i k u D r e a m s · Thu Sep 27, 2007 @ 05:16pm · 0 Comments |
