Wednesday, August 10, 2005

Oh, to feel the aches of youth again. That which was so quickly dismissed as intolerable suffering was but in fact, the evidence of simply being alive.
There is a profound sadness that still clings to my soul. One that cannot easily be shaken by humor alone. I hear the wrestling of leaves on the wind and taste the passage of time much too acutely. The sun is setting and I hardly remember the day.
Dreams of shattered glass
long since broken
in the past.
I no longer fight the world
I fight myself.