There comes a time when we each look back and grieve for what we've done. And for everything we've lost for good. Because there is little to say when you break with your own hands what you tried so not to take..
You see, people are built to bear. But the strings of things that link them each to each; those break if you breathe, and not all the time in the world can fix the scars they leave. There comes a time when you realize how small you really are, and not a hundred souls that wish you well can make up for the ones you've cut away. And then there's nothing to do but stay awake talking to pages that cannot speak.
And so it is that we lose hours from our lives. Time sours, and shrivels up like a grape plucked in the palm of your hand. And dies and dreams of wine..
I could have sworn I'd known I'd miss the soft silver sound of the sandglass raining time and find when it's done that I left it all behind but there is no turning around is there. There never is.
I'm sorry you have to hear me whine again. But its been a hard day and there's no one else I can tell right this moment. My throat hurts. There's things that smash their way into your peace.. you know exactly what I mean, whoever you are, because we are among those to whom sadness and sleep don't come together. Never easily at least.
Call me sometime if you're feeling blue. Whoever you are. I owe all of you a listen.