I tumble
I fall
I sway in the breeze
I pick myself up
To fail
With no ease
I weep In the corner
I cut in the dark
Hoping I will feel
My long lost heart
Streams of crimson
With scent of clover
When will this nightmare
Ever be over
- DNL235

As I walk home I sense a growing pit inside my stomach. It's finally the end of the cycle, and I am exhausted. Yet there is something different this time compared to the others, i feel dead on my feet. I shake it off, that's normal to, I always feel depressed after never handing my manuscript by deadline. Still there is something else gnawing at me, I can't describe it, but I can feel it. This dark urge.

Finally making it up all those stairs I reach my apartment. I was pissed when I read the broken sign on the elevator doors, just my luck.I'm running on fumes as it is. Better not over exert to much, or I'll never make it. As I open the door I feel a sense of relief, tomorrow is Saturday and I can sleep in. Taking off my coat, then place my bag on the couch and throw the coat somewhere, anywhere as long as i don't have to work and put it away. I walk into the kitchen about to make something, but fail in my Attempt to make food. My stomach cries out desperately desiring me to feed it, but I don't have the strength.

As I walk out of the kitchen I'm aware of a sinking feeling, the void from earlier in more profound and its not because I haven't eaten. My body wants the Nutrients, the warm full feeling, but my mind won't let me. I trudge to the bedroom removing varies garments on my way. I lay down ready for blissful slumber to take me away, I close my eyes just waiting. I open them and stare out towards the clock, it's been six minutes. I close them again, hoping that the over used, worn out Adrenaline rush will die down. Tossing and turning still unable to slip into dream land I open my eyes for the second time to see its been three hours and six minutes. Why can't I sleep, I was dead on my feet. I feel it, I need it, but somehow I CAN'T have it.

I wake up swearing to a ringing phone, it's my epitome. I don't answer, he's the man I have dreamt of. My prince, my love, not only his looks but his personality as well. I have always been plagued with an urge of irresistible men. Slipping into bed with anyone that caught my fancy, but those days are over, now that he's here. There's a spark there, so why didn't I answer? Cause that bastard called me in the middle of the night! Looking at the clock he realizes is late afternoon. Crap, it's me not him. We have a date and i forgot! How could I have been so stupid? I get up kicking my self, guilt ridden. I just have to call him back, but I cant do that. He'll ask why I didn't answer, what would I say? I can't lie, but I can't tell the truth either. I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Maybe I should make some food. Before I over think myself to death - DEATH? Why does that word make me feel tranquil. That's an atrocious thought, I mustn't contemplate such extreme measures. Yet I linger at the thought swirling in my mind,what if I did? I am just a vacant carcass anyway, is this what I've been feeling? I have been devoid of emotion, gloomy, but that's normal. Isn't it? It can't be, especially not since I have Him. Then again what am i? Nothing more then an experiment, a play thing to satisfy his desires. What if he becomes weary of me, disposes of me like over used tissue? He has ample amount of reason to abandon me, yet none to stay.

It's too early, or should I say it's to late in the day to decipher my obscure thinking pattern. He walks into the kitchen, I should make food this time. He walks out only had made a pot of coffee. I'm to lazy to make anything, even boiling water seems like to much. I overslept, yet I still feel depleted of energy, emotion, love.

He walks into the bathroom and turns on the shower. Having finished his sixth cup of coffee. Waiting for the water to heat up to his desired temperature, he removes the little bit of cloth covering his body. " I forgot something," he walks out of the bathroom into the kitchen and back. Putting his hand in the water, then gets in allowing the warmth to envelop his body satisfying the absence of human comfort. Lowing himself, sitting, as the downpour cleanses his body of a undesired substance. A heavy flow of tainted water, swirls down the drain. Until its overflowing with crimson liquid, staining the white porcelain tube.

" So many questions
So little time
So what will I do
With what's left
Of my mind?"
- DNL235