seconds turn into minutes… turn into hours… which then turn into days… i can’t help but forget… moments i just can’t recollect… no knowledge… no regrets… no understanding… wounds so fresh… soon enough to mature as scars… needles & pills… never comfortable enough to sit still… with choice, but without decision… eyesight alive, but lacking appropriate vision… i roamed… not alone, but overwhelmed by feeling lonely… tell me you caught a glimpse… of my life struggling with an unbearable mist… i heard angels cry and awaken me with a daily kiss… that kept me alive each time the demon’s ammunition missed…..
©2003 josephine b. ciliento