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To you, what might have been entwined, these forever nights buried in what it means to be whole and true with a child in your arms; with the caution of two stars thrown apart wondering where the other shines, comforted when asleep and chasing the art of deliverance. To a certain sense of gentle knowing, you, not more than seven hours distant; you, whom I chose to weigh down with endless histrionics, on the edge of my mind: hungry, searching, confused, and ultimately unhappy with my definition of life. ![]() |
don't really find this non-sensical... i see a family split apart...she with the child, separated from him...and he is full of regrets and always wondering what she is doing...he can't let go of the memories...yet she has started over....existing peacefully and comfortably without him. he is "unhappy with his definition of life" because the definition doesn't include her...and he is on the verge of throwing his Webster's in the toilet..with his life. jacob | Posted on 2012-09-02 00:00:00 | by jacoberin | [ Reply to This ] | this is beautiful, simple, and so relaxing to read | nice! | Posted on 2012-09-02 00:00:00 | by irrelevantme | [ Reply to This ] | |