Monday, 15 June 2009
03:28:18 AM (GMT)
As my eyes flutter open,I stare at the cracked and stained ceiling.
I'm not where I'm supposed to be;the wallpaper is peeling.
This isn't real,this isn't real,I keep telling myself.
My eyes see the smoke coming from the top shelf.
This depression hangs over me as I walk around,blind.
I smell rotted corpses and near-broken minds.
The fumes have traveled into my body,through my skin.
I can't think straight....the walls are closing in.
Cigarette ashes fall from the sky.
What my love had told me was more than a lie.
He said he'd be here forever and always.
Now I stare at his body,watching as it decays.
The swing is still swinging back and forth.
My heart is still beating,but the beat is short.
I drop to the ground,and call out for help.
Why,oh why have I done this to myself?
Nobody comes,and here I lay.
Waiting patiently for my last damn day.