into her loving arms.
The sky unfolds
copper ribbons and gold.
The wind carries my heart
And your soul.
Ah, your soul
It carries the wind, the ground, the world.
-g.m.
---------------------------------------------------
I remember this quote going something like this, "One of the saddest things, is remembering in time when we were once happy." Do the tears come from us missing it? Nostalgia? Yearning to have happy moments like that again? Or maybe it's not to say that we don't have happy moment's anymore, but to have one's identical to once we hold so dear, is not a possibility.
I often get mad at myself for being human. For having feelings. For feeling too much for those who don't reciprocate. For having faith in everyone and everything that surrounds me, and zero faith and confidence in myself.
I've painted a lovely picture. A landscape of how I want the world to perceive me. But the image has been distorted lately. Because what I give to the world, what I show...is rarely ever how I'm feeling. For some reason my mind is weary and filled with loss. What once was soft, and glittering and pure, becomes unsteady and unfamiliar. What i once held, slips through my fingers. What I once loved, I do not know. The things I held so close, are vast and obscure.
Don't get me wrong. I haven't become a pessimist...
The roots of my soul have feverishly begun to take residence throughout my body, striking every nerve.
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