Sunday, October 4, 2015

The bullet's path

I step inside my door. I look around and see things I've seen before.
I find myself sitting the previous molds I've long created in my past.
I take my place and let the blood drain from my body onto the floor.
Ounce by ounce a piece of me drifts away into this place.

My happiness is grown outside the walls and falls apart within them.