when things go wrong each day the trouble of time floods a million voices and images half blurred in time and half hurried from disasterous pain. utterly, unspeakable, predictable human flesh filled nerves pin needles and screaming lights blazing your trouble young mind.
your one chance, my gift to you, i retract. you cannot have me back for you cannot make things whole again. things will never be the same. sin and sun have bled into one.
i keep tonguing the wound, the crack in my smile. as if there will be something different there this time. maybe a different outcome. a suprise? no suprise. but the possibility of result is the reason behind the action.
potential = action = reaction = assessment = hope = potential
take the time to smell the roses and when miss winter comes, you will have your memory to hold you company when no natural flower blooms for months counted with huddled cigarette butts at the sidewalk cracks outside of your front door.
posted by fillshe @ 8:39 PM
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