Monday, April 28, 2008
Deaf Ear
No direction, I keep flying into muffled clouds. They're cold and selfless, I lift up to float. So I drift upon this lovely little flower, it's silk petals warming me into sleep. In my dreams I howl and scream to forever stay in this world of my petty imagination that drives me wild and suffocates with laughter. I spin every which way as if to avoid waking to this gray selfish mirror of my own obscurity.
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