Monday, November 28, 2011

My eyes are glazed over
as I stare at the same spot on the carpet that I have been
staring at for fifteen minutes
wondering what is happening
you'd think I was dead
if it were not for the barely noticeable movement of my chest
the up and down motion makes me sick
and hurts my head
I wish it would
I wish it all would
I hate the way
it makes me feel
and you damn well know how it tortures me
but you don't
no one does
no one stops

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