(no subject)
[Oh to be here... Home and hearts and missing pieces. It was forever ago that this had never been, so why was it back...? it should go away. The field was still, except for the gentle weaving of the grass in a slight wind. The flowers were bright and happy, and the sun shown beautifully in the sky. It was impossible to hate, but it hurt so wonderfully. It hurt in a way the observer wouldn't understand, and would feel anyway. It hurt like memories. in the background, drifting to and fro with the wind is laughter. Hysterical quietly crying laughter.]