� poor sleep � 2003-10-01 � 8:24 a.m. �
I want to wimper...
In tiredness... for the mud in my eyes and the ash on my skin. I want to cry.
Misery takes many forms and for today it is my skin... my blood hasn't backed down, it has just stepped aside for a second to let the itchiness move in.
I can't speak well... probably worse than yesterday... i sound as haggard as Marg's sisters. I barely slept for stupid dreams... fever dreams...
Should i be afraid of a dream where our tub was filled with blood and tissue?
I hate neo-citron sleep. I hate the restlessness of it. I prefer coma.
� previous � next � comments � diaryland � old �