vendredi, avril 22, 2005


It's supposed to open you up,
give you hope,
sharpen your senses.
But instead it just clutters
your already little world
with sharp glass bits
that sparkle and cut,
wounding joys that slice
deep as you smile and sigh
(you'll feel it later)
and mercenary giddiness,
sweeps you sideways
under the current
and before you realize
you can't breathe
you're gone.