Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Imagery


What are you but a dream in my head?
A dark mist envelops me into a haze of confusion.
I am an idea
Stuck in the head of a mind that can’t express itself
Thoughts spill on paper; are they nothing but words of red ink?
I am a journal
Etched in blood that drips from my own beating heart
Do these words have feeling?
Do they have a purpose?
I am a nothing
Though my heart is spilled out and bleeding into every page
Dripping with guilt and shame, only one can white out the despair.
You are God

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