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09:53 Apr 18 2011
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There is pain. Lakes of pain, seeping and viscous, surface shuddering at the rise of a slow boil. I am miles of pain from the hazy coastline, wracked with weariness, and see as much a sanctum I might reach in the surface of the moon. Bitterness and habit drive my deadened limbs to tread; I endure, but I may not escape.
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COMMENTS
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Joli
16:25 Apr 18 2011
Vivid and palpable. I can feel this pressing down on me.