h1

March 15, 2008

I watch the ink dry and seep into the paper
my thoughts! My thoughts laid down
Hide them away, burn them!
No one must see what I am.
Fear, that is it, that is what I feel
Of what? They are just words.
But people die of words, their own,
Must not let them see how stupid I am,
how clever, how trite, foolish, silly, misguided I am.
My smile hides my while my pen betrays.
Yes! Yes, damn you. I’ve cried, I’ve lied
to you, to me, to all but not the page.
Those white pages lined in blue force me
the ink poisons me, sees through me
A truth serum! That is it, a truth serum.
Its addictive. I can’t stop. I am bleeding
Bleeding my soul onto these pages
Stop! Somebody stop me! I can’t stop
There will be nothing left soon, all gone.
An empty shell walking around
with a notebook tucked under his arm
My soul tucked under my arm
What sentence, for what crime is this for
Who imposed such a hellish thing.
I watch as my hand betrays me and carries out my sentence
My sentence, my prose, my thought, My God!
I don’t want to be sane, be rational, be true.
I want to create me, my own creation
Not this weak fool sitting alone writing
Stop him, he is killing me…

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