with every thought that bleeds in me
your image is blazed in every cell.
Every drop that hits the floor
Swallows me in a puddle of your emotions.

The lacerations in my skin,
Abrasions on my bones,
Punctures in my organs,
The very inside of me has been decimated.

The paper burns to a thin black crisp, and falls to the ground to lie
amongst old ashes.
With every word spoken, and motion made; no brutality does it sane, I know
I'm out of the picture.

March 2, 2004
 
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