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Rated: 13+ · Prose · Personal · #1012073
An unclear apology to myself and someone special to me.
Traveling along crying roads, I'm getting claustrophobic, you're getting annoyed.
All I desire is expecting too much.

I'm sorry I seemingly ignore you. My thoughts are so loud I disregard you but not on purpose.
We will tell each other everything, appreciate each other. My life is a never ending "fill in the blank" question, whom no one has the correct answer. I'll keep trying randomly until I can move on.

The road though always the same shows its age, I show my interest with a blank face. We are not going to get, we are going to go.

You are here to hold me together like a thick epoxy. Like a clock your job never stops, until you run out of batteries that is.

We freely create in a cage that they call a protective barrier. You need to protect them from me, afflicted with insanity I'll make quick decisions and unleash reasoning. I haven't found where I belong yet, but as long as your here you haven't either.

Listening to me ramble is like a liquid dose of sodium cyanide, I'm sorry for that as well. Already weakened from years no longer current
my inner organs get angry at the constant articulating of words. They turn off, excluding me from their performance.
© Copyright 2005 Tye Gates (tylergates at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1012073-Sodium-Cyanide