A dispassionate white sun shone at the summit of the sky. I wanted to hone myself on it till I grew saintly and thin and essential as the blade of a knife.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
No Longer
Steady.
I feel like my heart has been scraped and cut up raw. I can't breathe, and I don't know what to do. I wish I didn't feel so much for life. I didn't want to get out of bed today. All I want to do is crawl up, cry, and cease to exist.
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