Author: Blackening the Ivy PM
Inhaling dust, Beneath my feet, The ashes of grey.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Angst - Words: 210 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 1 - Published: 03-17-05 - id: 1861657
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Beneath my feet,
The ashes of grey.
Frayed stars sting my eyes,
Fragile as I seem,
Falling into oblivion that I cannot be freed from.
Veiled within these lies.
I cannot abide this burden.
A screaming face is waiting for me.
Waiting for me to come,
Waiting for me to hide,
A laughing voice as I cower within shadows.
I fall to my knees pouring our all my sins to whatever registers as your God,
The fuel of my emptiness.
There is nothing here,
Just an echoing hollowness,
As holes crawl upon my itching flesh.
I'm dying in this single blindness.
Biting back every scream,
As the blood sinks into the grime,
Seeping through the floor's unending crevices.
The sting of a single, sound, solid regret,
Bitter as cinders.
Piled between the burning embers,
My burns are twisted,
Wrung of blood.
Everything I feel,
Has become invisible to your perception.
And I think I don't care,
Not really sure what I care about any more,
I'm letting go for nobody's sake,
Not even my own,
I just am.
I'm crawling for every bit of sanity I can spare,
As this beautiful, fucked-up mess burns,
I may just let it suffocate me.