torrential
By vague hit
the hard black lines all blur into grey and stir my consciousness with a thick ladle of my own condescension. i wonder why i am left climbing brick walls i created, deperately trying to gnaw out the mortar with my teeth, knowing that the foundation is untouchable by definition. only with the first brick can i let people look inside. but subconsciously i know ill try to divert people from where the light is streaming through, cutting a path through all this smoke, patterns playing upon what i once thought was the way i could cope. one day someone will reach out a hand and see the patterns of my worries playing across, look through the whole and see my heart beating there, not quite defined, the blacks blurring into grey but still beating. i know why i need to be in colour Written October 17th, 2001 © on Oct 17 2001 02:52 AM PST 18 • 0 • 1
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"the hard black lines ..."