"I find myself at the bottom of this empty bottle

Surrounded by hazy glass and paper hearts

Reaching for that invisible rope

Again

And again

And again

But it never shows itself

Just snickers at my slow demise

Watches as I fall further into the pit of destruction

Scrambling for anything even some-what tangible

Yet I always come up short; desperate

And continue to crave what I'm missing in myself:

You."

S.N.S. 2/2/2005 5:00pm