Grief

As I sit by my seaside window,
listening to the stricken cries of gulls above,
I hear not the sobbing of my own heart
for it is broken;

The strings that tie
my mind to my heart
have been severed
by a cold white hand-

It is Grief's heartless action
that renders my mind unfeeling.
I barely feel the wetness that falls
from my tired, aching eyes-

I cannot turn it off,
to give them some relief-
I cannot stop the painful beating in my breast,
I cannot give myself release.

10 June 2006

Haiz, i'm so depressing that i'm sick of myself... is that even possible?