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Literature Text
I walk a white line
cut against a razor's edge.
I totter, close to falling.
A gentle white powder
falls like snow
on my lifeless form.
Cotton fills my mouth
and fog fills my head.
The smoke clears and I see what I've become.
The white line
has closed me in,
circled around me.
cut against a razor's edge.
I totter, close to falling.
A gentle white powder
falls like snow
on my lifeless form.
Cotton fills my mouth
and fog fills my head.
The smoke clears and I see what I've become.
The white line
has closed me in,
circled around me.
No idea what made me write this one. The ending can be taken in two different ways.
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