manic at best.this is mysymphony; a chorus ofbirds that don't existand the s y n co patio nof bruises on mythighs.here is where isign out– the cap off of thebottle and the bloodout of myarms. it's like catch andrelease, and here iam, letting it allgo.
.you page tearingthief boy--give back yourwings, because there is a reasonwhy they were rippedaway. you cannot hold onto what you lost.in the eye of a storm, you were the onethat fought the eye. andas much as it breaks me, that is the reasonwhy i once lovedyou (but i can't hold on to what i lost).
RehabTo saythat rebuilding trust is difficultwould be an understatement of the highest order.It's a lot like relearning how to walk.With each small step,I keep thinking I'll fall--and I may--but I haven't yet.My heart and left legthrob in protest,but there's a certain joy in progressthat keeps me moving forward.