i am scared

remember that we laughed just a few days ago, and do remember that that is exactly what just a few months past, i had no idea could ever happen.

remember laughing and thinking nothing of it, knowing that it all means nothing, that is ecstasy. remember?

remember how you have been my muse for the past few years?

i think that without you i would have succumbed long ago. without you i would have perished in my loneliness, without you i would have disintegrated within my own forces.

without you, i say. what do i say?

now i am facing a new sheath of fear. what is the dagger's nature so intimately embraced by that sheath?

does the sheath envelope the dagger, or does it protect me from its nature?

what is this that i am feeling now?

i am so very tired of this multitude of foreign feelings! do not let me get lost in their chaos!

in all the years that i have known you, for the first time i imagine the intimacy of our struggle.

i am scared, i need to remember the lightness of our laughter. i need to remember the lightness of my laughter.

could it be that i just need to forget all?

this

this anxiety is fear.

i did not know that it could feel this way.

fear...

fear!

how very foreign you are to me!

but why do i fear my wishes?

why do i fear my dreams?

why do i fear my desires?

am i any less than any other, so much less that i would have no right to my own insanity?

summer

 

the summer is over it rains

where were we the last time that we talked?

 

oh... it was spring!

no. spring was magic.

we talked last a few weeks ago, and then i lost track of it all.

you told me that you missed me and i wondered if it was me or the redhead that was missed.

 

i like the summer when the heat is gone i like the spring when the breeze is warm i like the autumn when the sun is smooth i like the winter in the winter

i came to think of you and her, of him and i, and i have gotten to wonder. i see her more often than you do. you do not see him at all. we, we do not exist, we are eternal.

 

i mash your words and his. you asked me what it would be like... and he told me what it would be like.

when it rains, what is the truth?