It's always a shock to realize that you have hit a new low in your life. Losing touch with the things you once clung to. Fearing you'll never have the strength to touch them ever again... even just one last time. Needing to hide the ways this all hurts me.
I never hid my scars.
But now...
I can't handle the concern.
The knowledge everyone has acquired about the things that make me tick.
Before no one had a clue.
I can't even look in anyones eyes, afraid of being read like an open book.
Cutting old scars open so no one will notice the mark.
No one will ask that fateful question to which I have no answer
"what is wrong?"
The world.
Circles.
Cycles.
Old replaces new.
New replaces old.
Old returns as winter to blanket the new in the same old shitflakes.
Afraid for once to expand my mind,
Gain new ground,
Converse with the emptiness inside me.
my muse.
afraid..... to see...
the truth.
© 2006 weheldhandsattheendoftheworld
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