Monday, April 4, 2011

I am my decision.

A sweet, intense longing spouts out from within me.

Pushing towards a purpose, and pouring to my validation.

It trickles down, hitting the ground, and I crumble to it.

Falling in the out pouring of mine own self. I am consumed. I am submerged in my own sense of destitution.

Drowning in a sense of emptiness, I am wet with broken promise and soaked in unfulfilled dreams.

I am my own hatred and my own discontent.

I lay immersed in myself, and I am longing.

I am wishing.

I am my memories.

I am mine own deprecation.

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