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2002 Hurting myself, feeling the pain,
letting my tears fall down with the rain.
Should I go or must I stay?
It doesn't matter, either way.
* * *
I look out my window and the sun is gently calling to me
"come, come," it whispers,
but I turn away, close the curtain, and crawl back into bed and the protection of darkness.
* * *
Dance, little flame, dance
rise above the melted wax
You may bend but you will not break
dance, little flame, dance.
* * *
The way
the sun
shone down on me
Showed me
this day
was meant to be.
