the water droplets run off me, within me its warm – its sore to know that each day is the same.
the furnace room is dry and its ferociously still. the wind is blowing so fierce outside and its so quite here in my mind.
i want to die for while, turn off and forget everything just for a while – only for a bit – to calm my thoughts.
something is within me, maybe its me that sits down and writes words in a book and tears the pages out and throughs them on the floor of my mind and they seap from my eyes.