A poem written 12-6-07 when I was in a very self aware mood. |
The icy claws of winter's hands take hold of this solemn night--- my breath steams against it, And everyone else is tucked in warmth, out of sight. The smell of barley and a touch of rye rises faintly from my lips--- setting out onto the barren sidewalk, Yes...here I go again. The Winston glows it's cherry red as I draw in and feel at ease--- I release the smoke from my lungs And watch it seep through balding trees. This is the kind of night I love, just me and footsteps on frosted leaves--- but just the same it cuts at me And though I'm cold I burn with a need... The need to laugh, The need to cry, The need to scream with no reason why... The need to love, The need to touch, It's overwhelming and it hurts so much... And when that need comes unto me it posesses my very soul--- and I want to tear into myself Ripping the skin away from my bones. Then I could walk among the town as vulnerable as I could be--- all my secrets bare to every eye To do what they want with me... I know it sounds pretty odd and absurd, I surely bet; but when you see me you can laugh At a skeleton with a cigarette. |