Check me out here.

Bleeding - in responseBleeding - in response by ~vriz
So... I'm here again.
This hallway, long and dappled in shining treasures.
It has no end and I've been here before.
Just as I know...
so shall I always be.
I pace this floor, read the faces
on the walls.
Paintings, photographs,
little crumpled notes.
A white fake rose,
a golden compass.
(I cry to touch.)
I see these things, and I bleed, and I want to just scream.
Ridiculed for once more walking this path,
it seems redundant to come back...
Broken record?
Pointless again?
No.
Were there no point this hall would crumble,
these shards of beauty would remain nostalgia.
Time heals, and if it does not... there is no wound.
Only