On days like this I think back to the challenges of wrinkles in your eyes that would send upon a severe sufferning of width in my lip, And eyes gazing following phrases tumbling out one by one,to replay the lines over and over.
Only wishing to go back to the clueless girl I was…The one who stands today with little to less knowledge of the girl then calling herself clueless now again, not knowing what to do with the emotions bottled within, written…and suppressed.
Here, standing motionless waiting for someone she can’t depict to come and embrace the void she attempts sew up with images of her remembrances.
Here I am on crazed days like this, with not much to say and pain that radiates from my abdomen to my chest, trailing from my eyes up to my imagination, that’s scarred in sacred happenings I wanted to happen that would’ve happened if nothing was screwed up. To the mess I call “the mess I cannot label” for there’s no label for that love.
To my giggles buried deep waiting to shovel themselves out, on these crazed days where I am one way and you, not far from me.