Wednesday, 12 March 2008

One more move...

Every little noise breaks my resolve. Every pounding thud inside my head drives me into new fits of anger. I want out.

The blood will still not wash from my hands. It drips slowly down onto my shoes each time I glance down. I’m scrubbing but it’ll never go.

And suddenly it’s there. I’m always awake, but I’m certain I never came here consciously.

And now, all I can do is cry to stop myself from tearing everyone and everything around me apart…