But really I am an outcast created by the self of my choice and choice of myself. Yet again people drink from the thin water of tripituality and my reflection ripples in its effect.
Is it safe to be lost All tired and tossed In the midst of some other's dream? To loose I, Mine and Me? Only YOU do I see, Till I've lost all Identity?
And then a day comes along I no longer belong 'cause you've fished
but I can't help thinking...everything was so good on the way to work- the iced coffee, the spring rain and the flowery trees, that cheesy shakira song blasting from my radio, the perfect lawns and homes that I pass on central ave, t
"I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as certain dark things are loved, secretly, between the shadow and the soul.