"When we can no longer dream, we die" -Emma Goldman

Saturday, November 6, 2010

once again, i'm in the back row
hiding from my eyes
i can't escape the throbs of pain beating through my head
no one says goodbye
no one thinks to get me one too
i'm transparent
in thought, in appearance, in emotion
i'm alone half the time
and the saddest part is that its restful
i'm being pulled by that truth that won't manifest in my mind
you think you get it, but you really don't
its not okay how i feel
and your delayed reactions point more to broken machinery than distracted friends
i can't even begin to say where it all ends
but i know it starts here

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