Leopard Skin
<< 8:49 p.m. - Wednesday, Jun. 15, 2005 >>
This old form begs to be renovated.
I will not.
The blinking cursor screams to be stopped.
I cannot.
My lexical silence is blind.
So am I.

I am without my compass.
I am without my roadmap.
I haven�t felt the days pass.
This must mean I am lost.
Fingers deftly search for Braille bumps
and nothing rises to meet them.

I was never innocent,
but at least before I was ignorant
and not this.

The image before me
doesn�t bend to my outstretched hands any longer.
Everything is so hard. So solid.
When I trip I skin my fucking knees.
When I run out of money, I don�t eat.

My life just isn�t pretend anymore.