Empty eggshells Line the floor And you can’t walk across Or get to the door. You can’t reach your shoes,
And we were always running never to but always from and always running... And we were always hurting never for but always from
It is the emptiness, the nothingness, the in-between. Is it broken? Is it maimed?
I do not know All of the answers. I forget sometimes And I’m not always right. Don’t listen to me,
We used to have the same lunch, didn’t we? We used to laugh at the same jokes… wouldn’t we? We were woven from the same fabric
Notes rolling off of my fingers The right hand sings a soft melody… The richer undertones of the left… Flowing and melting in swirling ma… The quiet inner voice on the right…
Maybe I resent it because I know that since it meant so much it hurts so much more. And maybe I resent the fact
dance in the sun watch it splatter over your face
The clouds in the distance Sit, patient Oblivious to my need For rain They promise the rain
flirting with death ring the bell and run she knows it was you but she lets you go you are waiting to die.
I stand at the door What am I waiting for? A whisper or a breath To tell me to carry on? Carry on, carry on.
My heart Is a glass ball Delicate Awaiting somebody Who will cradle it gently
Knowledge is pain, Knowledge is power. The beauty of knowledge Seems so tangible and so beautiful… That mankind must have it.
I fear That now There is no real me. I wear a mask of personality And pretend I’m happy.
Something warm has curled up inside my chest. It is filled with hate, with sadness, with things I cannot express.