If you could hear me I'd say that our voices don't stray from the minds of all that had heard, even our own. I'd tell you that our muddy pink rain boots may be thrown in for the tarnished sandals of another. Needless to say there is only time for readjustment, because I can't bring myself to hate the person I've become, but to acquaintance myself with a permanent stranger. And this time, I'll be waiting at the front door.
July 17, 2011