My BubbleA Poem by The Lady AnastejaAs I sit home...Shhh...do you hear that?
these four walls
I can hear them rupture, coming apart
i feel them mocking with their proximity taunt with their height constrict with their width
closer
they encompass me constringe me
i gasp.. but am not able to...
plaster! it invades my lungs
oh, why do I allow these walls to consume me
as I descend into their pigmented dementia, I scream their names
STARING, AT, STOP, ME © 2008 The Lady AnastejaAuthor's Note
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9 Reviews Added on August 8, 2008 Last Updated on August 27, 2008 AuthorThe Lady AnastejaStroudsburg, PAAboutI don't advize, and I don't criticize, I just know what I like with my own eyes - DM more..Writing
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