be the serpent
poetry and prose
Saturday, September 02, 2006
Siphon
A whirlwind in my head
Drowns out all other noises,
I am alone with my voices.
A dark cloud sits heavy on my head
And rains down my face.
There is no shelter.
Drowning in emotion,
I pick up a pen
And siphon some out
Through my fingers.
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