i actually wrote that one a long time ago during my days as a depressed adolescent.
i don't have as much fuel for the fire as i used to, but winter usually leaves me in a mild state of nostolgia. here are three i wrote last month:
ink therapy
these words words are composed of
carefully sewn together
pieces of imagination and despair
ive lost my mind
but i can carefully piece it back together
not as good as new
but still not quite beyond repair
winter
just my luck
its winter's ashes
just my luck
im out again
kill me quick
im out of matches
such a bitch
too late for rain
dash
when all is passed
and past is dust
and all thats left
are thoughts of us
but brief and fading
like a sigh
thats heard upon the breath of time
then was it real
or just a dream
and did it even mean a thing
thanks, daisygirl--even though i dont like to admit it, i am at heart an attention-craving narcissist whose parents didn't give him enough support as a child, so admiration is something that really makes my day sometimes.