...Looking through a glass..Unable to hold or touch. An all too familiar tease of the senses. Just the image alone that's before me resurrects memories once laid to rest. But what good is it when nothing seems to have changed and again there are boundaries set before me, not allowing any connection of the heart. A sweet agony of sorts. Allowing myself this refuge of memories knowing in the long run they shall become my prison cell. At this juncture I do not care and refuse to heed the warnings from the voices still echoing around me. Sometimes memories are all that you have...
sometimes....
No comments:
Post a Comment