elbow itch
Wednesday, Dec. 18, 2002 at 10:59 p.m.
Im wasting away. I try so hard and still i am nothing. These tears i cry arent real, they are just a liquid rolling down my cold pale skin. This blood i bleed, is not warm as it should be. But cold. It matchs my heart. Cold. If i were loved i would be surprized, if i had friends i would ask why. I have nothing to offer them. I take up space and lifeless breath. My heart doesnt beat only pretends. Its weird i know. Just how it is.
I looked up to the sky, thought i would find some answers, only clouds. I wish i were a cloud. I wish i had no feelings. I couldnt be hurt. Just float on by as i watched your beautiful face as i watched your beautiful life. The perfect life. Its not possible.
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I dont know where i get it. I just let my fingers go and that is what i get. I dont think what i am going to write i just start and finish and then read what is there. Its good, i like it.
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