Its late and im tired.
The television has burned
holes in my pupils.
I cant get comefortable in my skin.
Ill turn the tv off and
sit
in the dark,
alone
with my thoughts.
This is the part i hate.
I can party all day long,
and pretend to have a pulse,
but as long as i have these nights,
ill never feel alive.
I write
to keep my thoughts
at bay,
but not even that
can
save me.
There are too many things
to dwell on
to not be
miserable.
There are a million
reasons
to hate my self,
and ill be here,
in the dark
counting them,
one
by
one.
1/8/07
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