"For most of history, Anonymous was a woman." Virginia Woolf

Wednesday, September 7, 2005

in hopes that one day I might be Home

--Long is the round to a false friend leading,
e'en if he dwell on the way:
but though far off fared, to a faithful friend
straight are the roads and short.
--Young was I once, I walked alone,
and bewildered seemed in the way;
then I found me another and rich I thought me,
for man is the joy of man.

Leaving is always the best and worst part. There's always the estacy of being around people who recognize a part of you that not many others do.

We have plans to meet again at Yule, if not before.

And the words that were said, sincere at the time, and mostly meant. Though I wonder at a few.

Something I've been workin' on:

Each mile past, numbness grows
up and into my senses, filling the void:
No longer the smell of moss and earth,
No longer the warm smiles and sunlight
streaming down through the trees
No longer the merry making and swimming
in a mirror of the starry sky.
--I get through the days, sometimes
with the sound of my own laughter,
othertimes, not.
The chill on bathroom tile is distracting
and I am grateful.

Not done, but it's something.. Something's more than nothing, even if it ain't all that good. :)

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