in love with death,

part of me was buried in that casket too.

fucking terrified

of everyday situations,

only running on 3 cylinders,

one more blow

might be irreparable.

attracted to the bony visage,

no man can compare.

i only want the one thing that i can never have.

not to much to ask for, huh?

This entry was posted on Monday, July 9th, 2007 at 12:02 pm and is filed under Grief and Grieving, Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.