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Year of the Spider 9:31 p.m. 2003-09-18 Tired and bruised and looking for blood the words just keep coming tonight. I was thinking about you, about us about everything. And her words, from a few days ago, came back to me. As she said them, i saw her face again, tired and sad, tears bleeding brilliantly on her skin. I think, that's how I'll end up, mirroring flawlessly her deeds and her regrets. The only differences are these: I'll never cry no matter how much I want to. And, I'll never spill the pain in silvery words to anyone. I'll let it fester and rot and burn away inside. And so many times lately, i've wished i could abandon this resolve and cry my heart out. But its been too long and I... WOnt. Let. Myself be that... weak... never again When i wake up tomorrow, my bed will be warm and i won't remember this. I'll step onto the cold floor and my heart will gear up for another day of hurting. But what i want you to know is i probably don't mean half of what i say... and the other half is a waste of time
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