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Holding Back
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The pale face and glass eyes that you hide as you look at the ground, we know your strong and the fear you have inside youself that you refuse to let out.
You fold your legs and sit with a ciggerette in your hand casting a shadow of illution over your innercore that is angry an confused.
Though the memory of what has happened will not fade like a beam of sun over the horizon, the situation will get better as the moons pass.
-Thomas Michael Brooks 10/31/98
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Untitled
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I sit in that
dark room and
feel the shame
in the pit of
my stomac.
I sit in that
dark room and
feel the anger
that spins in
my mind.
Not anger at
anyone but myself.
Why can't I deal
with these troubles
myself?
I hate to use the
phone and ask and
speak of these
troubles to
others, for then
I feel more screwed
up then before.
And I ask myself
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Fights End
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A cold shadow of mist, clouds my mind as the window shatters from the now dented pepsi can. Anger, fear, depression forms in the pit of my stomac
as I watch her storm out of the house with my keys in her hand.
-Thomas Michael Brooks 9/20/98
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