how much am i supposed to be missing you? if my life goes on, albeit a tad emptier, even when you aren't here, does that mean i miss you any less?does that make my love for you in any way less significant or wondrous? why don' t you think about that.
what if i thought i saw a seemingly familiar face in the sea of anonymous ones, and my heart went thump? which part of me wanted to double check to make sure it wasn't so, and why did i not? just like stepping over a quicksand, you want to avoid it because it'll hurt you, suck you in; out goes the air in your lungs and it's sandmuddarknessemptiness. but sometimes you want to be pulled in. you want to sink. you want to disappear for a while. you want to know what's on the other side. even if it's going to hurt you. but you see, sometimes, you hurt others more than yourself. then the game starts to get dangerous. but i never signed up to play in the first place, they keep giving me extra lives. then how? i just want to melt away, like chocolate left out in the sweltering heat, leaving a sticky puddle behind. then parents can come point at me and warn their foolish children; look at the girl who hoped for too much but wanted nothing. i'll be a cautionary tale for others, a case study of what NOT to do.
how do you cherish freedom, when you don't know the true meaning of being in captivity?
ah, but how i do ramble on. it's been a while, don't you think? it's ok if you don't understand half of what i'm saying here; it's supposed to be somewhat obscure. as much as you wanted it to be so.
