12:29 a.m. - 2005-05-13

Fresh Air

Dangling my feet� there is no ledge
I think but I can�t feel
I dream but everything is so real
The world lies beneath me
And yet if I reach for it, will I find something to grasp?
Digging my hands in the dirt, I pull myself away from this ledge
And yet they stand behind me and I find no escape here
In their fear, they�ve always tried to keep me here
Either choice brings death
But at least out there I stand a chance at obtaining one last
breath

2:52 p.m. - 2005-05-08

Time

Once again we set out� we set in. The curtains shut yet the chirps still sound through. Trapped inside and yet so much to do. The clock tics with every second, reminding us to move. We accomplish nothing in our sitting here�

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