December 2009
ISFJ
She left me in my darkest hour, and I am still here, still beating, a pulpy mass, alive and headstrong. In learning to accept the unchangeable pull of reality, the gravity of situation, the farce of dependency, I let go.
It is not truly this simple. Nothing ever is. I have tried to etch out need, desire, longing; these elements are not meant to be hastily erased. Perhaps a good distraction is in...
“I have never known the difference between the measure of air in lungs or the...”
“every year about this time of year
i am with you as if you are here,
i...”