Done. Shifting eyes. Mistaken, mistook. The fragmented whole is betrayed by the scarring. Third time, failed. Once wasn’t enough. So this time it won’t happen, happen again. Slipping and falling and slowly in love. Waken up. Alone. Clutching to the bed sheets, holding back the tears in the dark. Lonesome in love. Standing alone. Playing the guitar to the silent distance. Strumming and humming: shattered apart, nothing could truly fix a once broken glass heart.
Danger ahead. Disaster, beware. Misread signs lead you back to the attic. Madwoman, wild one, raging beast of passion; reaching for the stars. Midnight glistens, in the shaded eyes lies your reflection. The implications of doing are great – the risk of no action indeterminably unbearable. It remains to be a question of ultimate bravery: absolute vulnerability.
“ultimate bravery: absolute vulnerability”… strange how they are one and the same, isn’t it?