Thursday, June 14, 2007

if i were anything on my keyboard it would be the backspace button

god how the mildew grows. taking over everything, how i can smell it when i smile. leaves me thinking of what is there to remember. something so familiar, this bitterness. i can feel it climb over the walls of my insides so the light cannot come in. hear the degradation of my former self in this rotten body of mine. and when i crumple on the floor like a pile of dirty clothes, i wait for the people i know to come pick me up. but it has gotten so heavy, and their arms have grown ever so tired.
the tips of my fingers are so tender from plucking the double strings of an instrument i cannot play. of a thing that requires rhythm and i give it my half-ass attempt to create something that is beautiful.
the tips of my toes are so tender from walking where my feet couldn't go. wrong shoes. wrong place. drag them along stubbornly, forget about the pain and go. and go. and go.

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