Myspace 1

I used to write things with rhythm, formatted in columns, on my Myspace. Maybe they count as official writing. I feel sleazy about posting them because they're from a time I took a lot of things for granted, in a situation I would love to go back to. Regardless, I figure I ought to post them here to see if they're worth something. Will try to remember to title these posts 'Myspace' to keep it organized.

It's this house that brings me down
and freaks me out.
Makes me sick at everything.
Drills to temples;
I've got panic crawling up my spine.
I was fine half an hour ago.
It's the dark and the sick and the sad and the hurt
that I can't fix.
Not going anywhere.
Taking deep breaths, but I've got this cracked hurt under my ribcage.
My head is starting to spin.
This isn't right.
Bugs under my skin
crawling home, burrowing holes.
I don't want to be special.
I just want to get by.
Not up for stilted conversation,
so don't call.
See you tomorrow.

© Copyright 2008 Abby Almon