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Dreams That Never End
May 16, 2009
Drowning in a sullied abyss,
I cringe at the hurtful words thrown at me like balls in a batting cage.
I swallow my regret and move to never forget the pain of a summer's day.
It's like a sick story that they can't wait to retell;
Over and over I drown in what I call my spit,
Because in a split second
I can sit and think of how I came to be in my own bed.
But it goes over my head doesn't it?
They drag me under for round two and three,
and all that is me disappears when I finally have to pee.
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