| This is taking its toll, over and over I look this up and down, yet I cannot do anything, not even make a solitary sound. My life is a blank canvas, no matter how much paint I use. The paper aborbs it into the abyss, leaving me. Blank. I could ice myself here and now, if I really wnated out of this. I could just pull a gun on a cop with an itchy trigger finger, believe me, you would want to, if everything you did was declared a sin. I cannot hold onto these stones for long, my foot holds are starting to erode. Not much longer, before I give in to the feelings that grow ever stronger, and take these problems out of this world. |
