Wednesday, June 8, 2011

This isn't the answer

It creeps slowly through my skin
touching me with sterile fingers
and white coats filled with children's memories.
It doesn't let me go of me
letting the soothing whispers hold my hair back
as I tell all my secrets to the icy porcelain in front of me.
It reaches every part of my body
even the parts I try so desperately to hide
and it spills onto the white tile beneath me
turning it crimson
and finally leaving me
alone.

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