Justyna Stanisz

My cold black hole

Screaming without a sound.
My head is whirling, lost thoughts all around.
The glass shatters,
but what does it matter?
No one notices anyway,
me in my dark cold black hole.
And no, I canít face the day.
And no, I donít want to reach any goal.
The cold wind blows my feelings away.
And though,
everyone has oneís own hole,
they manage to crawl out somehow.
And somehow Iím not allowed.
So far away from life.
Iím torn up and broken down.
Daydreaming and I dive
and suddenly I donít feel alone.
Demons guiding me through my dreams,
turning into nightmares.
I breathe in the dead air.
It really isnít as it seems.
How dare you blame me?
Your rules and theories donít work down here.
Maybe I†dug this hole,
but they cut off my wings,
so I canít fly away anymore.
But I doubt you understand these things.
Iím at the end of my tether.
But itís better you stay away, donít come hither.
Iím crying myself into pieces, tears turning into blood.
Sick lullabies, broken dreams, myself is all that Iíve got.
Red raindrops pouring down on what once was my pride.
Or could it be that I just try to hide?
In the end itís hard to say
whether this is my refuge or my prison.
But actually I donít see any reason
to answer this question today.
Written 2006


All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Justyna Stanisz.
Published on e-Stories.org on 09/04/2006.


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