There are no words to put down on paper to describe what we have, what you do to me.
Any combination of words seems too simple, too meaningless in comparison.
You, sweetheart, are the poem i’ve always wanted to write, but never knew how.
Her feet, her tanned, delicate, painfully cut up feet, walked through the cold crisp creek mechanically as she stared ahead into the distance. Despite the breathtaking beauty of the practically untouched Oregon backwoods surrounding her, she just kept blankly starting ahead, at something far beyond the haze of the trees ahead. She stumbled on a loose rock and finally broke her dead gaze to look down and catch her footing. She noticed only momentarily the cool crimson colored water around her as she splashed water on her heels and legs to try and stop the bleeding. More attention would have been given on her fascinatingly blood stained legs if her focus hadn’t been stolen by something floating past her rather quickly. She found a spurt of energy from God knows where to leap forward to it, trying to catch the dark blue blob of fabric before the current took it away. She leaned down warily and picked it up; a hoody, a dark blue hoody with grey drawstrings and a hole in the right sleeve. She let herself slink down into the cold water as she held the hoody close to her. Her eyes closed and she tried to cry, but all that was left was an empty feeling, a hollow, lonely emptiness that hurt more than anything they could have done to her did. Yes, she was a survivor, but with nothing left to survive for. She looked around as the sun poked it’s first curious rays through the trees ahead, waking all the chattering and ignorantly cheerful birds all around her. She took a deep, painful breath. She was alive, but she had never felt more dead in her life.
We, an ever evolving group of peoples, must constantly live with the scars we create ourselves.
God, the only thing I truly believe in anymore, will not let you forget where you came from or what you’ve done to get you here today.
Too often I find this a cruel punishment for past mistakes.
Honestly though, whatever it is we’re ashamed of we’ve done to ourselves, and it is only fair to have that memory forever.
To completely change who you were, become someone new, someone better, is something to be proud of.
To have to look down and see your past on your body, to see the ugly parts of you that will never change, is something we must deal with.
We, an ever regressing group of peoples, must constantly remember who we used to be, and why we’ve decided to change, and who we’ve changed from, and who we changed for.
We must progress, thank God, and be happy we’ve changed at all.
I’d like to leave an impression on this world, one deeper than depletion and short lived fun. I’d like to spread the values I’ve fought so hard to find, and to help others find their way as well. I’d like to write, to put into a permanent form the words of unfathomable curiosity and self proclaimed wisdoms that race through my mind everyday. I’d like to find a purpose while i’m here, something bigger than the inescapable cycle of greed and green. I’d like to live, but i’d like to live with meaning.