You come and go like the mist. I never see you or feel you anymore, but somehow when you come around, it’s an imperceptible, barely tangible feeling. Yet it clouds my vision and cools me down, pauses my life for a moment and brings me back to the same thoughts as always. Where are you? Your life in pictures? Your thoughts locked in a box? Your secrets and seclusion - why? Is it easier for you not to tell anyone anything than to spend the effort telling, even if it means alienating the people who know you best? And how “well” is “best” - does anyone really know you? Side 1 or 2. What are you?
I wonder all the time.
About Me
- Tiffany
- Perhaps what lacks undergoing cannot be embraced. On her own as her only, asking neither pity nor grace. Adrift, astray, missed the last train of today, but lift your chin little girl. Soon enough, bright ahead the sun wakes, again dares to show face.
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