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Personal Note:

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Poem

And here again I stand, 
empty and bleeding,
wishing only for the kiss of true passion again in my life.
To truth and beauty I remain a slave,
empty and soulless until such a time
as someone reminds me why I breathe.

Pulling in so many directions, 
wishful thinking,
paranoia and illness.

Perhaps the home we thought we made,
was nothing but lies and illusion.
The loss of such was not as painful as it should have been.
More a realization that no two people should hurt so much.
A quick slash across the wrist,
the darkness enfolding as everything fades.
When we wake,
we won't hurt anymore.

Everything I held sacred, 
no longer means a thing.
You've managed to take that from me.
But the one lesson I have learned, 
and learned well is this:

Never again.

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