i actually wrote that one a long time ago during my days as a depressed adolescent. 
i don't have as much fuel for the fire as i used to, but winter usually leaves me in a mild state of nostolgia. here are three i wrote last month:  
ink therapy  
these words words are composed of 
carefully sewn together 
pieces of imagination and despair 
ive lost my mind 
but i can carefully piece it back together 
not as good as new 
but still not quite beyond repair  
winter  
just my luck 
its winter's ashes 
just my luck 
im out again 
kill me quick 
im out of matches 
such a bitch 
too late for rain  
dash  
when all is passed 
and past is dust 
and all thats left 
are thoughts of us 
but brief and fading 
like a sigh 
thats heard upon the breath of time 
then was it real 
or just a dream 
and did it even mean a thing  
thanks, daisygirl--even though i dont like to admit it, i am at heart an attention-craving narcissist whose parents didn't give him enough support as a child, so admiration is something that really makes my day sometimes. 
