Thursday, September 10, 2009

305. Maybe I'll build my house on your cloud.

Do you know what's it like to be stuck, trapped, cornered with your eyes shimmering with tears, your fingers shaking impossibly fast, a rabbit with no defenses, gun angled at your temples, at point blank, finger sleek on the trigger. If you don't know that fear, haven't felt that mind numbing feeling of death staring you straight in your eye, trust me.

You don't know me.

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