Cool tile brushes my cheek
how I long for sleep
Not a dream
nor a sound
not a person around
But every time
it tries to take me
you rush to awake me
With every thread
knit through my skin
every "thank you"
as you mend
You know
I'll take care
to tear it out
again
Author's Notes/Comments:
Another old fragment I found lying around, not sure when it was first written but it seems like my old style (not to mention subject matter). Sill it seems eerily appropriate considering recent events (future telling??). I've attempted suicide three times in the past two years and was saved by my fiance every time who even had to stitch me up at one point so we could avoid another hospitalization. I can't really say I'm ungrateful, although I wouldn't be surprised if I eventually did die in this way. That's just the nature of the beast I suppose.
