Im finding myself checking back here way too often. I guess i figured if we couldn't talk via the social network, or device wise, that you'd come here. Nothing.
Maybe its more simple than that? Maybe its just that. That you dont want to talk to me, dont want to try. Which is fine, i dont blame you, ive become.. different. Like that simple year helped me grow up more than the 18 before it. I think more, smile more, laugh more, look forward more, look back more. Ive found myself thinking of children, of my own children. Ive never thought like such. It scares me some days, and others it makes me more happy than anything. I find that i crave a child, someone that will always be mine, through the sun and rain, someone i can cry for and cry with, constantly talk to and about, someone to share my life with and for me to hold their life above all.. Why do i think like this?
Its been four days since my uncles and aunts' 2 year anniversary. I thought of them constantly, but didnt shed a single tear. I think if my thoughts are distracted enough, ill be able to get through next years as well. Without a guilty feeling.
"She ran until her face was numb with cold and
wore a cotton gown that blazed the night untold.
She ran until her feet refused to hold
so heavy a heart for someone merely ten years old.
And when she reached the river her knees began to shiver,
her head with pounding voices from home.
Behind her was a vision, a painful apparition
of a darker world that no-one should know.
Somebody's bed will never be warm again,
the river will keep this friend.
Yeah somebody's bed will never be warm again,
no never again.
She dived beneath the water's icy skin,
hoping the cold would kill the smell of angry gin,
and her eyes grew wider than they'd ever been
just wishing the numbness to cut deeper with its pins.
And as her body lay there she decided to stay there
till darkness came to pull her away.
And beautifully she sank as up river was the bank
where some bodiless troubles would stay.
Somebody's bed will never be warm again,
the river will keep this friend.
somebody's bed will never be warm again,
no never again.
Somebody's bed will never be warm again,
the river will keep this friend.
somebody's bed will never be warm again,
no never again."
Jul
12
Posted by
Sierra Lima Juliet Tango
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