Wednesday, April 25, 2012

This. Always This

My heart hurts. The time, it's ticking by, forging a path, despite my hands which grasp to hold it. My heart hurts. It's all going. The light of the future isn't as bright as the burning of the past. Nostalgia for the present I'm not living beats at my chest. By the time the day closes on us, and the world returns to their respective nests, I'm still going to be here, alone.

Pick holes in me and my love will all fall out. But that's ok because nobody wants it anyway. They all glance, look away, keep walking. I'll sit here until someone wants to sit by my side. If I fall off the seat and I can't get back up, I hope someone will pick me up and carry me home.

I need to know my faith in humanity isn't unfounded. Someone be the person I want them to be.

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