Wearing your Sunday dress on a Thursday.
My story my friends, begins unlike any other. Its begin, and ends in the same place. A place where this sweet, kind, and loveable girl has stolen my life. Now, you maybe asking yourself. How can a story begin and end in the same moment of time. Time is meaningless in the realm of love. Blissful years fly past in second, and moments of pain and longing last for centuries. Memories that transcend time and space, transcend life times. Memories that etch themselves in our very souls. This is the memories I share with you. I feel this girl is falling from grace, crazy down to the depths of nothingness, but not the nothingness that is everything, but the loneliness of nothingness. Please just, Tell me why? Is it my misfit ways, or the fear of my love that draw you away. Sometimes I feel I will continue to go on aimlessly in this unstable flux of being. How do I connect with her when she is zillion miles away. How do I get her to see the voids, and desire it to be filled again. As I see she is falling from grace, I pray that someone will change her life, because I couldnt change it.
This story, unlike the fable of the past has no true ending. For something to have an ending means happiness or sadness prevails. These memories of the soul, will be with my spirit forever, and ever till time itself reflects upon its very existence, and choices to fade away or burn out. This is unlikely to happen anytime soon, if ever. Do I seek a new fairytale, fill that void in my blacken heart, just to give it away again to be shattered into billions of shiny pieces? A heart is something worth breaking. Its a dangerous game though, breaking hearts. Some heart grow stronger, and fonder. Some just patch themselves up, while others have visible gashes piercing through them.
Think of me the next full moon, the next blacken night, the next midnight shower. Think of the hard ache, the fleeting memories I cling too. Think of your Sunday dress and wear it on a Thursday. Think of everything your heart desires. NOW FORGET it all. If you arent willing to fight for it, it will be gone in a flash of lightening, and you will be left cold, wet and lonely
Dr J.J. Ryvers
(5146)
This story, unlike the fable of the past has no true ending. For something to have an ending means happiness or sadness prevails. These memories of the soul, will be with my spirit forever, and ever till time itself reflects upon its very existence, and choices to fade away or burn out. This is unlikely to happen anytime soon, if ever. Do I seek a new fairytale, fill that void in my blacken heart, just to give it away again to be shattered into billions of shiny pieces? A heart is something worth breaking. Its a dangerous game though, breaking hearts. Some heart grow stronger, and fonder. Some just patch themselves up, while others have visible gashes piercing through them.
Think of me the next full moon, the next blacken night, the next midnight shower. Think of the hard ache, the fleeting memories I cling too. Think of your Sunday dress and wear it on a Thursday. Think of everything your heart desires. NOW FORGET it all. If you arent willing to fight for it, it will be gone in a flash of lightening, and you will be left cold, wet and lonely
Dr J.J. Ryvers
(5146)
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