"the air smelled like crusted blood and sweat…" - Carrie Jones (Need)

running

I don't know what I want,
but I want to get away.

I don't know where I'm going,
but I've lost the urge to stay.

Open your arms and I'll come,
carry me far from here.

Let's make a new path,
without malice or fear.

When did I become such a philosopher?

Does it mean more because we put so much thought into it, or do we put so much thought to it because it has such deep meaning?

(and btw not gonna answer the subject question)

deeper

so many times i thought i was ready, hoped you would make that move. but we weren't really there, and that sort of loss of self control would have led to a much deeper chasm...

word of the day: introspective

Why so introspective today?

What sparks these feelings and ideas?

When will I stop thinking about what might have been?

When will I accept who I am?

Rememberies

My memories fade. Mixed with images too often told to be true, recited as a story from a book. Yet the characters are real and the situations plausible.
I have to dredge up images of people and places I thought I may never forget. To seek down the events in the recesses of my mind. Moments of a few months overshadowed and replaced by the me I've become through them. These memories seen through the scope of a camera, almost as though they belong to someone else. But some memories, both old and new are as real as the times themselves. What does this say?

I no longer wake up feeling as though I am wrapped in your arms. But the feeling is still true in the light of day.

disillusioned

Shades of gray,
penciled in.
When ink would
have made
things much
clearer.