Who am I, rid of fake?
The mask is off - what then?
A little girl?
All swirl of curls?
But what is, then, that gloom -
A straight line of an ache
That's crawling down the spine,
With fears there entwined?
I'm loosing all to doom...
I need one desperate dive
To be again alive.
5.01.2004
(с)kRu
https://roshkakru-poems.livejournal.com/14474.html