I’d like to get a handle
On this door to my demise
And to step across that threshold
And to find to my surprise
That there is no lasting comfort
In the skin that I am in
And to be so self-inflicted
Seems the ultimate of sins.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
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3 comments:
This is amazing. My core trembles at how much this relates!
Thanks, really. That poem was not so much written as it just happened.
-
p
Sometimes those are the best types of poems!!
Words that are spoken direct from the heart, not thought about!
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