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It's all dark matterEverybody's saying how they're falling apart,
They say they're shattered, bleeding and dying.
But I am not.
My heart.. Still beating..
My skin.... not bleeding...
..My limbs... Still grabbing.
... I can't rip it apart!
I wish I'd turn into dust.
In my past, so much pain
And in my eyes, I see it again.
I remember you,
Then something in my mind goes wrong.
Behind my eyes I feel a pain
I wish I could blow away my forehead,
And the papers talk about bloodshed
I say salvation.
I find no grace,
Hate and love, All an empty space.
No faithI wonder why, I wonder when?
Within myself I just know
There's got to be much more,
Like after sleep comes tomorrow.
But why do I have to wait so long?
I've lived now too many restless nights,
I want to is to burst into tears
But I rather just put out the lights.
No turning back then..
Now I'm here and only nightmares haunt me
Same as yesterday, Is pain the way it's meant to be?
This time I fear to put out the light
I know I did it before, but are my chances infinite?
Somehow I believe this is the way to find my true self,
One dawn at a time.. But what if I'm the real deal?
Either way I've no faith in fate,
All I ask is to take this with me tomorrow.
Break me away!
[transmissions of a dead girl]i am the
moon: i am
the silver pill
to weigh down
into leaden eyes--
i am the
of the dark.
the stars are
all dead in their
you'll be safe, dear,
as i am the moon,
with all of your
(i am good bye and yet,
you think only of romantic
i am the moon.
i am the crescent
and dead altogether,
i still die.
All Here For A ReasonI turned onto a shady, well-manicured driveway that, for all intents and purposes, looked harmless enough. Maple trees lined both sides of the street, and a parade of Canadian geese marched across the road to a wide duck pond with a flamboyant fountain. There were blooming crepe myrtles and rose-of-sharons, and as I grew closer to my destination, neatly trimmed gardens with neatly trimmed bushes.
I stopped to let the geese pass. They looked at me; one hissed. I honked my horn and moved around them.
At the end of the road sat a collection of grayish buildings and a number of signs directing me to the appropriate parking lot. "Welcome to Ten Creeks Hospital," said one of them. "Please enjoy your stay." I parked in the visitor's lot. Surely I wouldn't be staying.
I was shaking when I got out of my car. I had spent the morning getting high. One foot in front of the other, flip-flop noises, hot sidewalk. Mulberry and magnolia trees, freshly shaved grass. A bench and pan for smokers. A set o
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