Monday, November 21, 2005

The Past

Sometimes when I close my eyes at night I fearI will swallow myself up from inside.
 
In the silence I hear the rush of madness from the inner darkness, tearing, clawing screaming for a way to break down my sanity.
 
I cling to my pillow waiting, hoping praying that it will stop ... that the memories and the things they drag up from the past will vanish back into dull aches.

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