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1/17/2011

Song of A House

The walls are sweating with the strain
of holding up my arms
they scream under the agony
of suspending my eyes behind blinds.
I am an empty shell, waiting to be invaded
I am too young trying to appear old
and too rich to ever be tasted.

4 comments:

mckenzie. said...

powerful. well done. x

Bella said...

<3

char said...

lovely, as always...

xxx

Ever said...

Thank you, dears
xxx