11:13 p.m. - 2007-09-01
Why I am the Way I am
I am the way I am now because so many things have happened, so many have left me, and I'm spun-round back again. Oh how I miss the sound of your voice...

I've built myself a mound, a bit of something, of cold hard stones, building a wall. Too high and then they fell on top of me, my protection has become my tomb, enclosed forever to never love again. Oh how I miss the touch of your hand...

Someone new passes the wall er'day over and over, wondering, staring. They search for the boy, moving the stones, some give up, others persist to get me out. Then they get a glimpse of the damage the stones have done to me, that I myself are unaware of.

I'm hurt under a mountain of stones.