Walls
I try to think of nothing,
I am desperate to make the days pass quickly,
But for no reason,
I want each day to race to its end,
In a hurry to get somewhere that I don't know.
Feeling that life is sucked out of me,
Empty hard plastic walls,
Like a used syringe,
Graduated, dry and hollow.
Full of something useful once,
But for one time use only.
June 2010
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