glass
I used to be sharp.
A teeny bit quick witted.
like
glass.
Now,
I have been
dulled down
soft
by the restless ocean waves.
I am drowning and there is no one there to save me.
Oh God I am scared.
alone.
stupid.
I can already feel the steel in my heart.
killing me.
breaking me
like glass.
"I felt like crying but nothing came out. it was just a sort of sad sickness, sick sad, when you can't feel any worse. I think you know it. I think everybody knows it now and then. but I think I have known it pretty often, too often." — Charles Bukowski (Tales of Ordinary Madness)
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