tiny pieces of paper
knee deep again in sorting the mess of my existance always finding pieces of scrap paper names, numbers, notes scrawled out. some in folded pieces others so old they begin to rip as i unfold them. some in old wallets others in boxes stuffed to the brim with a billion memories.
i can't help but wonder what has ever happened to that person. those times were so long ago and yet i can't shake the feeling that i too in the lives of others exist mearly as tiny little scraps of paper after a night of drinking or heart felt discussions. a memory of times past.
over and out.
nix
i can't help but wonder what has ever happened to that person. those times were so long ago and yet i can't shake the feeling that i too in the lives of others exist mearly as tiny little scraps of paper after a night of drinking or heart felt discussions. a memory of times past.
over and out.
nix