Needles once used for protection,
are drawing themselves closer to my soul,
the thorns have already pierced my heart,
and forced my will to grow hastily old.
there is nothing i could do to stop them,
and nothing i would do if i could,
the only solution apparent to me,
the only path through this fog i can see
is to shut down from pain, so to close off from love,
to let myself sink so much further from above,
to drown in the air, so thick i can't breathe,
and allow myself to slip into painless dreams.
i ache for the peace that i know must exist,
deep in my unconscious mind, holding your hand
so blissful and unaware of any hurt felt or seen,
and without disturbing minds,
floating like a feather throughout painless times.
i wish so bad that i didn't have to feel,
is this more than i deserve?
my neck is cold with your invisible hands,
and still, i believe i'm owed all i am served.
i have seen feathers before, like the one drifting toward me.
but i would be senseless to believe in that any more.
it's the duplicate to the 'comforts' i have seen in the past,
so i can only assume things will occur as before.
