Thursday, December 17, 2009

One Cell in the Sea

It's not my knees.
Its my ribs.
and my knees.
and I can't write in my journal.
because it's blank
and its staring at me
with its orangeish paper.
And my ribs are too weak to carry the weight.
She's so heavy.
Except I don't want her.
I can't want her.

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