Droplets
of water,
of time.
Slipping away.
My hands,
hold nothing,
feel nothing.
They are cold.
Scattered thoughts,
invade my brain.
Into the nothingness,
of my reality.
Heather McAlendin
January 11, 2012
Droplets
of water,
of time.
Slipping away.
My hands,
hold nothing,
feel nothing.
They are cold.
Scattered thoughts,
invade my brain.
Into the nothingness,
of my reality.
Heather McAlendin
January 11, 2012