Just when you think you are strong, you remember you're weak.
Just when you think the light is brighter, a cloud covers the sun.
The casualty takes on the guise of a butterfly.
And flies around with its painted smile.
Untouched by reality, untouched by the movement of time.
Just taking precautions that nobody hears us leave.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
learning curve
His eyes were dark and no end could be seen, like peering into a well. I lowered my eyes contemplating what he was saying to me. All I could think about though were that his eyes reminded me of a weasel. I had never seen a weasel's eyes before, but I was sure they would resemble his. He was still talking. I focused on his lips moving. He had great lips. They were soft and fun to kiss. What a shame that I was cutting myself off from them. They were the lure into his lair. Not that I was prudish, but I knew that with this one, I couldn't keep it at just a physical level. He knew that about me too, and still he was out for himself.
His words were pretty, but his actions spoke volumes.
He simply cannot be trusted.
And he admits openly that he cannot be trusted. Like I should just roll my concerns up in a handkerchief and put them in my pocket since he admitted to it.
I won't walk away, but I'm not going to stand around either. I have already stood around waiting for something that would never come (and only because the one I knew I could live with sailed across the ocean, but that is a different story).
But the weasel has left the state for a few weeks. My repose. I need to to get over him completely and no longer allow myself to fall under his spell. Sometimes I think my heart likes to be all hurt and only thinks of itself. I wish it'd get over itself and let me live. And then I laugh to myself; the weasel and my heart would get along fine. Just not me.
His words were pretty, but his actions spoke volumes.
He simply cannot be trusted.
And he admits openly that he cannot be trusted. Like I should just roll my concerns up in a handkerchief and put them in my pocket since he admitted to it.
I won't walk away, but I'm not going to stand around either. I have already stood around waiting for something that would never come (and only because the one I knew I could live with sailed across the ocean, but that is a different story).
But the weasel has left the state for a few weeks. My repose. I need to to get over him completely and no longer allow myself to fall under his spell. Sometimes I think my heart likes to be all hurt and only thinks of itself. I wish it'd get over itself and let me live. And then I laugh to myself; the weasel and my heart would get along fine. Just not me.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
jump into empty
Feeling the rain drip from my eyes.
Silent waters escaping with my hope.
My soul fills with numb empty.
Time is slow in healing my heart.
Time has become my opponent.
My soul learns to pass each second.
Silent waters collect in puddles.
Feeling the rain drip on my fingertips.
Silent waters escaping with my hope.
My soul fills with numb empty.
Time is slow in healing my heart.
Time has become my opponent.
My soul learns to pass each second.
Silent waters collect in puddles.
Feeling the rain drip on my fingertips.
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