2001-08-17 - 9:05 a.m.

** Yeilding clock uncover, unwrath, uncloak these eyes. Endure the pain, the guilt, nor the sorrow. Cease living lungs leaping loudly into my throat, where I can hardly breathe. Discovering, charting, finally, piece, by, piece, ... myself, and your hands guiding, directing, pushing, shoving me to myself. What I once procieved to be my "true" self, but to later find out that it was masked, and decievingly covered with lies of love. Twisting chants repeating verbal accusations torment the perspacious mind no more. I was there biding, and now responding numbingly to no one. Goosebumps reverberating timingly at the touch of an unscruple hand, and yet dreamingly I am taken aback. This is my quietus.... I bid thee farewell, as I no longer grace you with my unintelligence. My blessings, and my love, as you knowingly already devoured that. The proof that humans cannot be forbear actions of thier faults, nor be genuinely sorry.... well, that'd be a live-by creed of my last love.

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