The long drives, stuffed in the back seat of our Pink Rambler, in between two sisters is where I learned the art of throwing daggers with my eyes and how many songs can be sung with words like 'this' and 'that', causing the tongue to shoot in the direction of whichever sister you were mad at the time with. All the while, having an excuse in the lyrics of the song. All that, and plethora more...
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Thursday, July 30, 2009
Even If
Even if, one day, freedom arrives.
Even if, one day, she feels brave enough to walk away,
I wonder...
will she ever be rid of the fear.
will her heart ever mend.
Or...
are there too many memories.
are there too many scars.
are wounds too deep.
When the worst is over,
Will...
it all make sense.
the pain go away.
the memories remain.
she find what she needs.
Where to begin.
How to begin.
Can she really begin again.
~N
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