Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Calligraphy


Nights are usually beautiful.
Last night was not.

I have run out of space on my left arm.
There is always more space on my thighs.

I live in hell.
My hell is cold.

I press my face against the cement and moan.
There is never an angel there when you need him.

I cannot cry anymore.
I run in the night, knowing I am lost.

I bite my lips and taste the blood.
It is all a lie.

I run in the night, going round in circles.
A chained ghost.

I need you.
I am in hell.

Where are you?
Please help me.

Come in my sleep and hold my hand.
Kiss my fevered arms.

Tell me you know I am the one who calls for you.
Tell me you know I am here.

If I could only feel you for a moment
That would have been enough.

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