2006 November:

My hair smells of finess
my skin of dove
my eyes burn red
my fingers are dry

i know where i stand
between locked doors
muffled crys drowned by night noises
tears soaked into the carpet

here, away, there
not understanding why
needle points in your direction
deeper breathless sighs

drawn inside the glass
where theres no affection
above all else
smothered smeared faces

insomnia prolongs time
aching hearts
tension inside
consumed by darkness

spinning at full volocity
forever stuck in this red sea
where its but moments time
before all is ignored

till i am able to breath again
wrecklessness is freedom
plagued by this full circle
once more again and again...