Friday, April 30, 2010

Day 282: blah

i need to write a poem
but all i can think about is the texture of her hair
and the way you are torturing yourself reading my every breath backwards
upside down
twisting every syllable into a noose to hang us both from
its hard enough for everything to be over
even friendship hangs on thin thread here
but to know that i still have some sort of power in re-breaking you is terrifying
my own hands are folding into themselves
i will continue to hide then im the shadows

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