Monday, September 21, 2009
- 8:59 pm
we bleed our emptiness out onto the fabric of desolate reality. our naked souls, the eruptive temptations of the new day are hard to resist; but to desist is the greater course.
the post-rainy evening punctuated only by the sounds of drops drop drop across the vast distance of leaf to leaf, falling clear and pure drop drop the raw verdant beat which now drowns out the sinister beating of our own vacant hearts drop drop so we hold in our eyes new beginnings but we keep in our hearts old memories drop drop of the rain and the trees and the sky and the breeze. we live memories of the now again and again drop drop a new life with every drop that falls through our broken lives; to the next leaf, it knows not where it ends. but its true; some things don't die; like old promises they linger in the corners of your heart drop drop promises of uncut lines and unreturned books; things which stand for more than they are drop drop render you incapable of living new days caught up in the way things were. some things don't change.
drop drop.
p.s. and you know how everything means something; but its probably nothing. matter of perspective is all. you can keep the change though.
fin
hit the stars
