(no subject)
There may be a hole in me and I may be leaking the best parts of myself from that hole.
Or I might be clogged... and all the best parts are stuck behind what's worst.
I need to patch up... or let go... through words.
I miss language and the way it intertwines with one's tongue when spoken immaculately. It may even be my obsession... my true path to my true destination.
But I am elsewhere; I am always lost.
A young man I knew died recently; he was only twenty years old. While he was just an acquaintance, it was rare that he did not greet me with the smile of an old friend. To think how few the days have been since I last sat by his side among our common companions...
Oh woe... how short it can be: life.
Or I might be clogged... and all the best parts are stuck behind what's worst.
I need to patch up... or let go... through words.
I miss language and the way it intertwines with one's tongue when spoken immaculately. It may even be my obsession... my true path to my true destination.
But I am elsewhere; I am always lost.
A young man I knew died recently; he was only twenty years old. While he was just an acquaintance, it was rare that he did not greet me with the smile of an old friend. To think how few the days have been since I last sat by his side among our common companions...
Oh woe... how short it can be: life.