Saturday, January 8, 2011

++

Try to make me brittle
and stab me with a needle
I might need both just a little to find the end of this riddle
the bible may preach
but won't lead my way to the peach
Still I do come in peace
as the thousands gathers to one piece
I release my soul and let my worries carry away in hurry
Before I'm too late and left with the curry
I'm sorry- I'd say
I fold my hands above my scars
as the stars begins to cross
I think of my loss- that I terribly miss so much
My tears begins to rush
As my ocean begins to hush..

2 comments:

Fiducia said...

I see a hidden prick, a pain in these verses..
I am not sure of your emotion or experience when you wrote this..
But it surely does evoke many questions of your current mood, present day conflict with life..
Written well, written from the heart!
Keep blogging..

Lu Ann said...

Maybe Im misunderstanding, are you talking about self-injury?
Beside that, the style of your writing is always very touching.