There are days when the air is so thick with grief I dare not breath as the reality of my world comes more clearly into focus. Each moment becoming the only moment promised and any thought of a preconceived future fades with each passing day.
My heart is weak each day with this sorrow and burdens of life, mine no greater than any man, woman or child’s yet mayhaps percieved or felt in a way just my own. I deep colorful weeping of words. Wicks of fire and flame lick cooler waters of blues and greens. Dreaming of a day that my heart won’t ache to be held in yours. a gift once bestowed stolen by a darkness surrounded by light. see true, be true for I see the you, you do too.