Current Location: in bed
Current Mood:  cold
Current Music: your guardian angel
Untitled my hands are cold like the cold hands of death. I lie in bed looking up at the ceiling it is like i am in a coffin surrounded by nothingness.
outside the sun is shining but in here the light is dimming when i arise from my coffin like bed my brain is pounding inside my skull.
when i put my two feet on the cold,bare floor i see the earth spinning around me i grab the door for support but find none
i free fall into the unknown.
|