Clinical

13th Aug '10

Going going gone

Whatever remains, lie to it

And push that also away.

In the end it’s just me and me

Me with me.

Just me.

An air bubble floats still.

God know how it survived.

Will someone burst the bubble?

It makes me look back.

Faint thin black lines the nail beneath.

It’s dirt beneath my wings.

How can I fly?

In 2 3 4, out 2 3 4,

Breathe

Breathe

The end is not here still.

another day

5th June '10

'don't you ever stop writing!' ...someone had told me..

I wish i'd never

But 'they' left me

the spirits, the writing spirits..

no frenzy grips me now

no words come to caress my soul

nothing

in a bubble but not blind

in a pool but the heat gets to me still

an elemental change is happening..

or has it happened already?