I’m haunted
I’m waiting for the storm. The clouds are dark and the air is heavy. I’m prepared for this moment, I’ve jogged. My soul is dirty and my feet are full of ash. But even so, I don’t want to run from it, this is the moment I’ve been waiting for. I want to the sounds of the rain drops to cover my ears and drown in it. No more sleeping pills, just the pure felling of redemption.
I’m not just a mist that vanishes with the sun, I’m the train that run’s in the wild.
There are different words for the same thing.
August 4, 2009 12:33 am
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