November 23, 2007
I sit here,
Watching the fluorescent
Computer screen, with swollen
Red eyes and a broken
Heart. The screen before
Me is blank,
As my envious mind is not.
The window that stands
Open behind me
Lets in crisp stinging
Winter air that speaks of snow.
My fingers are weighed
Down with urges I cannot depict.
The emptiness I sense,
Within my own self,
Seems to be a dire omen,
Offering premonitions of
Demons from my past,
Back from the dead
Of which I do not
Willingly speak

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