New Born

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Growing life, growing death

Submitted: May 11, 2008

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Submitted: May 11, 2008

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New born day. Sky cries. Black clouds. Wet rain. Matted skin. Unclean, yet clean again.
Look away. Watching some other part of you. Hold on. Don't run away.
I'm scared of tomorrow. Don't know who'll say the things i don't want to hear.
Scared of now. Scared.

Holding on. Cold windowsil. Hard wood. Thinking of other times. Different life.
Watching the night. As it eats away the light. Hold on. To nothingness.
When darkness comes to take it away. Giving a new twisted security.
Thinking. Thinking. Thinking. Maybe i should be lost.


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