Find Home

October 30, 2008
By
When things that shouldn't be important, somehow are, deep down within the intricacies of your insides that you can neither control nor hide - when hurting is too apparent to not shake free, but apparently not apparent enough for clarity - you've been swimming in fog in those spectacles of yours for oh-so long.

The road before us wrinkled and waved in the heat that only the heart of summer knows - you couldn't tell the difference of the dark, yellow-ticked tar in your ocean eyes, anyway. The air is thick and hearts are heavy with the scent of tall grass in August and words left unsaid. I knew then like you know now, those clouds ahead are filled with promise; promise to drown this silence in the crashing of raindrops and light that could break this sky in two.

But now I think it's time; time to realize what's really important and let go of what isn't. We'll forgive and forget, and run away; leaving only a paper trail of polaroids and our initials carved into the wood of our favorite tree. With woven hands and swollen hearts we'll let our love grow unhampered. No sadness will be harbored within us and there will be no weeping for hearts too big; we owe each other that.

You know what I’d say, let’s find home and bury it in the backyard.





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