December 5, 2004

• Memories can be so beautiful. I find myself wrapped up in them as the light creeps through the cracks in my curtains. It only takes a word or phrase to bring back an emotion so amazing that you will remember it forever. Reading through my summer journal, my last entry, a poem I wrote sitting on the beach. It wasn’t so much the context of which brought me back to the few moments before the sun rose over the water, as the deserted beach awoke just for me, it was the decision I made to keep that precious hour for as long as possible. There is nothing as great as solitary, when a piece of life is in your hands, and only your hands. Some of which is so indescribable that only your memory can reflect what you wish to love, a moment that will happen once in your life, bound to you for eternity. I never want to give that up; I never want to forget the simplicity of pure beauty.
  
  
  What I am to you is not real
  What I am to you, you do not need
  What I am to you is not what you mean to me
  You give me miles and miles of mountains
  And I'll ask…for what I give to you
  Is just what I’m going through
  This is nothing new
  No, no just another phase of finding what I really need
  Is what makes me bleed
  

  • 2:24 pm
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