Tuesday, Sept. 17, 2002/9:42 pm

running

Running from my own voice,

That shivers down my spine.

Tripping on blood tinted glass,

That i'll never leave behind.

-

Moving the boundaries,

Furthur and furthur away.

Dragging myself into darkness,

Holding the healing blade.

-

Pulling shutters down on happiness,

The star lit sky passes me by.

Shadows line my innocence,

I've lost all will to try.