December 4, 2008

to have identity crisis.

stand at hot water
covered in chills
i'm shaking shaking
i'm hollow. more hollow.
and i begin to sob.
a tear tears teeaarrss.
more upon more.
but i am hollow.
i am lost.
and when i wash the strands
i want them to rip and tear out
out a brain
being eaten so slowly.
god it's so slow.
and i can't stop crying.
i scratch away everything.
away the skin, away hurt
away the lost.
and i lay there,
stroked by streams of droplets
and held in the arms
of thin bathtub shelves.

i want to fall apart
piece by piece.

i am hollow.

who am i?

save me.

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