Life is as a gazebo most days
Pure, impulsive action: a voice that harbors bitterness in each sound particle that erupts from it, eyes that shine in dull surroundings, fingers that are too stiff to unclench, lips hung upside down, headaches that tremble, causing teeth to grind…
The mind, an echo hall of right and wrong too scared to stop bickering, of circumstances unknown and uncared of, and a tinge of hunger for peace and quiet that is slowly losing definition…
Agony has such a articulate beauty to it. A shelter. A bound space.
And you can still stick your head out and smile.
Very clever, Miss V. A gazebo, eh? I like it. Also, update my link, please ;)
Comment by Justin — November 28, 2006 @ 3:30 am