Sunday, January 18, 2009
Holy Inconsistency, I Still Bare Your Shrapnel.
"I lost him one morning to the illegal bluebells. He made a B-line for escape. I wasn't invited. As always a mere catalyst to get him to where he wanted to be. A chemical reaction to excel him in the race towards self acceptance. And the consequence, the explosion of my heart. Now in a frame upon his bedroom wall, painted blue like his eyes and his words, smooth like the underside of his forearms, high like his mind, and hard like goodbye my love, I will never forget, and that is the worst thing".