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Sunday, February 05, 2006

welling rose.

 

the towel wrapped around my head only means i knocked my head repeatedly against the door from which i listen in to people's disappointment of me, until there's a round patch of welling red. like a rose blooming. i don't want to remember why. it has something to do with people humiliating themselves while i watched in morbid fascination. something. something is missing from this confession. is it the tiny tiny scars on my forehead that aren't directly self inflicted? is it the shadow that has now fallen across my face?

 

am i too far gone? can i.. come back? will i be accepted with the rose absent from my forehead? the imprint of a desperate cowardly lie.

Posted by NHJ 2/05/2006 05:44:00 pm