still pounds in half closed eyes
no sleep tonight,
the cracked window
of lonely room.
Who will hide from the light?
Who will stand in the half-shadows of sleep?
I know a girl that tumbles into abyss each night,
one sheet covers her skin
but she gets colder every day.
with sweat-drenched thoughts--
awakens to the sound of the
smoke sieves though a door,
locked in fear
of fear itself
tell you what she dreamt,
suffocating the crumbleing walls
doesn't want to be felt anymore
winter is not dieing
the butterfly as
as the worm.
(ughh...Liz tries to be subtle. I try. so...help would be appreciated. heh...you know. so I can learn.)
And the angel said unto me, "These are the cries of the carrots, the cries of the carrots!"
[This message has been edited by Wind (10-01-2003 08:40 PM).]