Ever notice how my writing spins toward songs?
"This Monkeys Gone to Heaven"
screamscreamscreamscreamscreamscream
What is in my heart? What is in my soul?
Here is my existence. Here is the twitch and spasm in my eyelid as I try to express my feeleings over what I cannot do. At times like this I hate my life. The times when I cry so hard that I have to put my hand over my mouth and hold it down hard while the lithium salt in my tears burns my eyes.
The twentieth approaches. Will I be able to ride it out?
Tears roll down and I don't want them to stop. They wash away the pain... for a little while, at best.
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