There were times when I would forget what tears taste like. I'd forget all that I knew once and all that I could know. There are fears that circle like vultures all the while waiting to swoop. Afraid of love, afraid to live. Afraid to even try. Now that we're nearly there, I wonder if it wasn't the most prudent thing to not have been afraid at all.
We are almost grown. Almost. I stand at the window and look at the coldness outside and the clouds rushing home to where they feel warm. The sun, looks like the way I feel : trying it's best to be, what it used to be.
We are almost grown. Almost. I stand at the window and look at the coldness outside and the clouds rushing home to where they feel warm. The sun, looks like the way I feel : trying it's best to be, what it used to be.
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