I remember the treehouse,
haphazardly built...
It's been a year, but
I still wonder often if...
Funeral homes are colder than usual
in late spring...
She reads the text for the 10th time:
"Room 18...
I have been drinking your poison.
And just when I think it's the end...
Even the hardest hearts weaken at the sound of the right words. |
Many of us crucify ourselves between two thieves - regret for the past and fear of the future. |
Some memories are etched into our souls with smoldering, rugged daggers. |