orgami's Diaryland Diary

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everyones left

where has happiness flown
and sadness pooled
in reflecting depths
the muse whose
breath chills fresh
clear air

what more do I need
sleep escapes me
the mania rises like
a junk tide
hot and flushing
then the emptiness
like a surgeries
sucess

sickness of the soul
I am filling like a
well with sand
in bitter salt flats

pretending that I',m
here

4:23 a.m. - 2009-01-04

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