How I was so foolish to pretend, to ignore and feel like it would last forever… So yes, the seasons change and so does the weather. But what about the warmth in your hands? Is it so criminal to be left hanging on? These thoughts are not ones that can be strung up on tree tops, held together from branch to feather… Not even a breath from your lips be needed to blow it down; there are highways for that; there are speed trains and the sweet sweet summer air that are enough for that and that job alone.
Inhale deep, breakdown on the exhale.
What good are wants when all you’ve taught yourself is to expect the worse?
10/10/2009 3:00 am
