03 February 2009

#8

Elizabeth
What brings me pain should really
give me joy;
what I fear will tear us apart
is meant to bring us close.
I can't sleep or dream;
memories are torment
instead of shelter.
Why is it that in these times
the best of news is really worst?
Even when he's here
I'm all alone,
every inch of me in crying.

(pain)

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