I admit it. I only post here when I feel I have something beautiful to say. And in fear and scrambles I hold back my thoughts from even the best of friends. But once a sadness is wearing off, once temporary, purposed numbness retreats, the world holds no dangers. For what can you lose when you've already lost it? But it's terribly freeing. Except that when it counted you couldn't be yourself. Wasted days of shydom and empty headedness. Ironic that your mind was so full, and your heart. But you're free, so you'd better blaze that trail between heart head and habit while you can, before you find another reason to clam up again.
There is a green place, by the river in my dreams, where I never even think of who I am.
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