UnEquilibrium

7/4/05

 

The pages turn

There's no escape

She hears the mob screaming

"Enough is enough"

 

Empty nights like tumbleweeds

In a trap of silence

A pseudo-marriage

Old and worn and ever-lacking passion

 

Clouded mind and troubled head

In a ball of fire

She'll sleep instead

Biting nails and messy rooms

Wonders how the day will bloom