(no subject)
Crawling from twohourlong sleep to showerShaveStow goods. Burning through stories of loss, guilt, waste & destruction, to make something of what's left, going North to an unknown outpost. Three meals by the afternoon, back breaking, heartaching, full of loves that lost, those I hurt, those who hurt me, wanting reconciliation, trying to reach out, dizzy, spinning among candles in the trees. Watching the old year burn away, passing out. A final flourish of love and friendship, old & new. And at the last, unrecividist, at least for a while. I've hurt, been hurt, had & been an evil ex, but the past is another country and besides, the wench is gone.
But I'm still loved. Held. Integral.
Horror of unlovely love, new year just-not-missed brings laughter, plans, messages, old songs, words. We're older than we thought possible. Time to end my sublime liminality, bring down governments. And grow up.
Failed, but not.
But I'm still loved. Held. Integral.
Horror of unlovely love, new year just-not-missed brings laughter, plans, messages, old songs, words. We're older than we thought possible. Time to end my sublime liminality, bring down governments. And grow up.
Failed, but not.