Reality is a difficult thing to set in stone. It is at once fluid and ambiguous. Liberating and Fearful. I wrote this poem while attempting sleep.
I miss the water by my window;
The feeling between my skin.
I miss everything about Childhood.
I miss the start where we begin.
He broke my heart
and
I broke his.
I miss the start where we begin.
Monday, April 19, 2010
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