November 13, 2004
By Lexicon
I dont know why I get so sad sometimes.
For no reason at all, Im in a rut.
I dont want to see anyone, go anywhere.
Just him.
But then,
there are times when he is not enough.
His present abscence crushes.
I opened his eyes to appreciating silence,
Golden but torturous.
It tortures me and it strangles us.
Going through the same things over again,
knowing that one day soon this is bound to end.
Poor little lex, once again, alone in her bed
In the crazy wonderland, banging the wall against her head.
Bad grades and funny money, laying waste
to days once sunny.
Silence is the golden spector
peircing the once consciencious objector.
Tin foil in my head; fingers computing insanely imagined sums
Fearing the dread when I will cut for no one.
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Copyright 2004 Lexicon
Published on Friday, November 19, 2004.
Filed under:
"Poetry"