I miss the thought of you – your impact in my mind’s quite waters, the rippling effect that moves these cold dormant smokey waters from my default slow to that unfedinable high.
You are a patient of your mind, your thought – the disease that hold mine.
I stare at this door, between you and I – how? Such a door stands here before me – lonely door, afraid door.
Why do you look at me with such pain, door? Is it that you feel mine? And I see only but a fraction of the other side through your key hole – my life is looking through this key here, door. if i could push my way through this hold, until am the otherside – my life will be definable…only sad door, you stand and cry at me as I try to push through. Why? Whay so sad? How sad can you be? My life is over. how sad are thee? I die as I watch the other side, here while i wait in this hall way, this flurecent tube of sliver corradors… My legs are cold as I sit here in front of you, they are cold like needles piercing though my fingertips. S
I’m still here, and you look at me still.
Why do you hold from me, the thing that I so desire, a passage to the other side? Why do you deny my life, my feelings, my happiness and my sadness from entering? It pains me, oh it pains me – the shard of glass is now not hurting me as much as it did earlier, my legs are so cold – death holds my legs in her arms – and I welcome the attention.
Looking now, back, down, at what I’ve done dear door, i wonder why I am on the floor…
I’m light headed – oh how it clasps my sadness and forgets the pain.
my body is getting sticky, as it dries – oh how wonderfull it is to see the lights on the roof, and as I think – I am walking on the roof, between the lights – happy, smiling. But i dont look down to see who or where I was – oh, no – I know it will disrupt my emotional bliss, my highness. So I dont.
The blood is now drying and my legs are warming agains the floor, they are warmed now. Pain is relative.
Relative, to the thought of you.
I wait on the roof.
until i fall.