Saturday, April 3, 2010

unfinished

she was the colored lines on white paper, infatuated with infatuation. Nothing left. All gone. All alone. finding herself reciting the same old poems.

Looking for people that would care. Just to turn around and see no one there. Loneliness taking over her world. Standing in a prison with no bars. Keep escaping but don't get far. Keep wondering how with no guards.