Monday, November 29, 2010

empty frames

This feeling is deeply flavored. With Sin.

Her soul is a million miles away.

As she sits, facing outward from the burning ocean of her frazzled thoughts, she swallows her heart down her throat. slowly.

Her thoughts.

Some are holding hands.

Others are wandering alone, lost.

How can she make it right?

Seems as though her life is slipping through her loose grip.

She sits and thinks.

And thinks.

Does your life ever hurt so much that it becomes hard to breathe? Even roses have a beautiful death.

Her blood is frozen. Her smile disappears.

The picture slowly starts to fade.

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