Questions?

Do you know any answers?  Can you see how the world works when the night falls in pitiful shades of gray, dampening the light from a weak sun filtered through clouds of melting mountains?  Is it good to say I ache from the machinations of a crowd that pushes me in all directions with angry power?  Once I stood naked before the mirror and saw a man not yet old and no longer young but I didn’t see me, I couldn’t see me.  Why can people only glimpse that part of us that boils and simmers with some parts rage some parts love?  Am I going mad when I remember you from so long ago as though it was only this morning?   You were so fresh and new and I wanted you more than the air I breath.  Is it brash to lay down my feelings like so many open sores to be eaten away by time?  I dream in colours so vivid they hurt my eyes and pulses of pain seep deep, laying trenches in my conscious waking life, can I survive or sink into a spiral of hurt?

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3 Comments

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3 responses to “Questions?

  1. Your recent posts remind me of the sorts of things I used to write, back in the day.

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