Trich
And only then I remember,
I shouldn't but the damage is already done,
and the guilt is growing bigger and bigger,
as I see it fall,
light and thin,
to touch the ground...
Nothing i can do,
but to cry my self to sleep,
terrified by this urge,
I want to cover my head,
so I wont tear.
I would beg my self not to do it again,
my arms like hell,
will force me to.
I would love to be the soil under my feet,
so bright green grass could grow from me,
and no arms from mine would pull it out.
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