Monday, March 24, 2008

It's high time for writing again

New poem/song/?


Its def. emotion-driven, not neccessarily from personal experience. Perhaps an observation on the predatory nature of our flesh.

Predators laying in wait.
Spun webs encapsulate.
Stifle, slowly, breath is leaving.
Catatonic stare, will they relinquish?
Weakness is the sustenance, forever searching.
Turn an eye away, any retreat is hopeful.

--Heather loves the smell of stinky kid breath in the morning

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