I find myself wondering, as I collect these stories of people’s last days together- I consider what the story will be for us. When will our last day be? So far in the future that my hands may be too arthritic, my voice to old and mind gone. Or maybe I’ll have died still with you and the story will be yours to tell. Or maybe it is close upon us and I would rather die than to try and tell it, for it to be immortalized in words on a page- where anyone could stumble upon it and possibly live my pain.
September 24, 2011
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Bulldozer
Clear a space for us
Let’s rebuild this love on what we were
0 plays
April 19, 2011
I used to think that I saw myself everywhere around you, fogging up everything. As time passed, I imagined that I dissipated and the world cleared up around you and you could see what you were maybe meant for. I was wrong and I was right. Because I am everywhere, haunting you.
April 4, 2011
March 17, 2011
I guess if I slept with “the love of my life’s” best friend, I’d be a guilt-ridden shell of a person incapable of human feelings, just like her.
February 7, 2011
January 29, 2011
Dust to dust. Ashes to ashes. The grim poetry of existence. But life is more than that. We foray into our hearts and look for ways to rise above them. We ache and we love, we hurt and we heal. Human beings, being human.
Stephen James- The Bishop (via quote-book)
i’m a fool, to think you think of me at all; to have ever looked to you for comfort, kindness- or a sweetness that wasn’t, in reality, a seduction. i’m not even the latest in a long, long line that lies before you.
