|
dessiahs_song
|
enough has been said about drifting away. about hims and hers and the i at the centre of the sphere. it is time for a different story.
how much is much? my words are the same. my bubbling redbluegreen sparkles of emotion are the same. and he continues to poke at me from far away, drawing melodrama and emptiness and chalkdust from within.
there i go again. harping out the same old tune, the broken melody which refuses to go. no lyrics, because i have much to say and no courage to say it all. besides, would anyone care? i don't want to flame egos and excite pity.
a past, a present. one, and not the other. perhaps i should swallow it all and let things lie in that half-real dusk of fading memories. why should i spoil it all with a confrontation?
this new balloon will rise yet.
|
070301
|
