I am scared that I hear rustles
Which turn into whispers and
Slither into my ear
I am worried that my self won't
Stay inside my body, that my
Shell is cracking, my mind will float
I am concerned that everybody knows-
They can look at me and see: Watery-red
Staining my fingers and dripping down my legs
I am afraid that something will change
That nothing will change and nights
I will still cradle my heart in my hands
I am tears. Salty bloody wailing frightened
As he penetrates with his mind, over again
1-2-3-4 and I am dying when my spirit splits
I am...
2006-08-18
15:35:51
·
14 answers
·
asked by
Anonymous
in
Social Science
➔ Psychology