Dark.
Dry.
Frigid, not cold,
but the pain.
When all you can do is watch...
listen.
Going through the motions...
Writing is my way of connecting with the real;
catching a glimpse of some beauty
through the plastic bag.
No sitting back
watching myself 'live'.
Not anymore.
I may not be living a whole lot now
but I'm a lot more sane...
P.S.
I'm sorry I killed you...
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