Thursday, February 10, 2011

Liquid Poison

a diary entry from thanksgiving:

Nov. 28, 2010 9:08PM

What is this mess I feel trickling down from my mind, through my heart, to my fingertips. It leaves thinly painted trail marks on my arm; my hands shake. It is the weight, the sticky fluid dripping down each strand of hair into my eyes. The liquid poison is every lie binding sight and emotion and thought.

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