A sort of separation.
It does not happen quickly, because you linger to contemplate...
The half a million pieces lying quietly on the broken tiles.
We wore a certain skin when we were united.
A shield, almost.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Push.
Posted by Christina, at 6:14 AM 0 comments
Scars,
"There's so many scars. Look at them."
"Yeah... I like them though."
"Whose? Yours or mine?"
"Both."
Posted by Christina, at 6:12 AM 0 comments
Monday, March 29, 2010
November.
So I'm waiting for this test to end.
So these lighter days can soon begin.
I'll be alone but maybe more carefree.
Like a kite that floats so effortlessly.
Posted by Christina, at 11:40 AM 0 comments
Flying in circles.
So, so close to the ground. Why is it so much easier for others to push themselves higher? I feel like I have to force myself. Maybe it's because these birds know where they're headed, which south they're flying to. Their comfort zones, they know where to go when they get cold. My sense of direction has rendered me to grow accustomed to these circles. I know where Id like to be headed, but I cant pry these weights off my wings. Can one of you turn around and help me out? Then we'll fly together.
Posted by Christina, at 10:14 AM 0 comments
Clumsy.
You will be safe in here, You will be safe in here.
Posted by Christina, at 9:58 AM 0 comments
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Painful Nostalgia.
I want to shrink.
I want that uncomfortable feeling of sand coating my hands and sneaking under my nails. I want to run until my legs fall off. I want to put sunscreen over my nose before I go out to play. I want to ask more questions. I want to wonder more. I want to be called in at dusk. The kind of dusk where you can taste the air. I want my family to be together. Not just together but, happy. I want my younger brother to be shorter than me again. I want to call on the kids down the street. I want to call first on the swing set. I want to scrape my knee. I want my hair to be in braids. I want to be a kid again. The knowledge of all of that being over is just...surreal. I can never get i back. It's gone, slipped through my fingers like jello. But a few pieces remain and mold themselves into my skin as painful nostalgia. I am no longer a child. I can finally reach the cookie jar, and for once, just once more time I'd like to have to climb.
Posted by Christina, at 6:41 AM 0 comments