pdasher
Please, no knife.
Put down the gun
Trash the pills
I offer you purpose.
I speak with patience in my voice although screaming is the stronger urge. SCREAM I must SCREAM until my lungs explode into a thousand pieces of pink confetti, until my throat mirrors the driest deserts.
But I suppress the urge.....
"I would prefer not to discuss this, but thank you."
I need an umbrella over my organs so they dont absorb unnecessary amounts of sodium....
The sodium coming from the tears of my heart.
When it rains, it pours.
I sink deeper into this cycle
of slowly losing desire.
deeper and deeper i go, waiting
for it to shallow out
as i wait to keep myself from being shallow.
I am curious about the thoughts behind the eyes of others wondering about the world. When they see an injustice, a cute pair of shoes, someone with the same shirt on. Are their thoughts profound? Do they live in the moment or a preoccupied with the past...or with the future?
Is this earth a wasteland of souls?
wondering, having no place to go,
confined to the crust
not able to escape..
not even to the moon