by keisi j

Created on: December 17, 2008   Last Updated: March 09, 2010

How strange it is to wake up in a cloud of mildew-stinking mist.

I try to escape it.

I run and slip and wind up covered with it still.

Deviate, medicate, disintegrate. Create.

I fall to pieces at the will of a disease.

My blood and bones and ashes are beauty you can see.

No one will ever know me but they can own my very heartbeat.

My pulse paints on white canvases.

They hang me up and they feel free.

I hug their walls and feel their eyes.

I want to reach, but I'm petrified.

Trapped inside a mind.

Learn more about this author, keisi j.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.