Life is not a movie.
There is no sound track playing.
There is no one to yell ‘cut’.
And there is no script to read from.
The perfect conversation may only be one fleeting, self-directed thought.
There may not be anyone around.
There is no formula to this distanced walk through the graves of the living.
You are not supposed to be comfortable. Did you know?
That has not been spoken. Otherwise in fact.
There is supposed to be that thorn in your side.
Don’t take it away; don’t take it from me.
I need it.
Then I would forget how much I can’t do.
Then death would be my only companion.
No comments:
Post a Comment