� Grit, dirt... and the words left unsung � 2005-10-05 � 8:27 p.m. �
I sit here wishing that words would lasso around me and take me in - swallow me whole... But I have been so empty lately... If I had a easle I'd be scraping it with my nails until my fingers bled, just to get a taste - a taste of something a little less mundane than this.
Bread and water everyday... that is what I feel like my mind has become. Predictable... Machine punched, calculated... It isn't even about this diary or for the lack of things to say, but on my mind lately I think very few things... to the point where I have to stop myself at night and say "self, think of something else..."
Rarely do I manage to do that...
My mind is filled with old memories... dreams not quite made to fruition... and music that both clouds and clears me...
My soul is mud right now... and my words like dirt...
Getting over the big things will take a lifetime...
This I know, this I realize...
~When you wanted blood, I cut my veins. And when you wanted love, I bled myself again. Now that I've had my fill of you, I'll give you up forever.
And here I go far away... I know you'll find another slave.
Then a vision came to me, when you came along... I gave you everything but then you wanted more.~
I'm not really free of anything...
Grit, dirt... and the words left unsung.
� previous � next � comments � diaryland � old �