Alone time.

May 28, 2010
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Every pore on my body filled.
The thin hair floating over my eyes.
The demented sound waves under the water.
Causing each sound to be lower.
The sweet feeling of sleep pulls on my eyelids, but the dangers of drowning help me to break back through the surface water.
Back to what I wish wasn't reality.
The water draining out of my ears cause a tickle.
I raise my arm out of the oasis to scrape against the twitching skin.
I watch the water drip off my hand hitting the water.
Organized rings.
The smell of stem.
The water becomes my clothing.
My security.
When I get out I wish the water would stay with me,
But instead it falls off,
Like skin slipping off the bone.

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