Here I amagain. Drowning, falling to meet my old friends. I though I left you behind I though that I would never need to see your face again but here I am back where I started.
Its funny how I thought she saved me. Its funny how all those safe feeling are dying with eachcold day with each passing hour.
I collect broken people because I am a broken person.
Her lips they move, I see the sharp razor words cut her tongue and lips as they fall like acid rain burning through the scars that I though healed.
I am reminded why. I can feel the cancer growing. Is it fatal this time?
The pit it opens like an old lover, arms wide, screaming and carving a welcome into my flesh.
Branded forever my its hollowness. Why did I let my dreams confuse me into thinking this was reality.
I feel my hands again, for the first time in two years. They are cold. My lips craked, my throat sore.
This is who I really am and that is who I dream I am.
Reality begins to sink back it biting into the tender flesh my neck like the hangman's noose.
Who ever said the drowning chiild was taken from the sufforcating caress of the sea?
Its black again, just like it always was.
Nena
Monday, November 09, 2009
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