Sunday, 31 May 2009

• “It should be alright”.
  I mutter these very words over and over again.
  
  Please, it would right? You told me it would. You told me it would be fine. The anxiety will pass as we get through this phase. It will, indefinitely.
  
  Time and again, it appears without caution. Like a sudden blow when you least expect it.
  The signs are vague, but the brunt seems so clear. They don’t even seem to correspond.
  Tell me that it will be soon. At least tell me it will go by.
  
  I take it back. I refuse to accept what I’ve been deceived with. I persist to the belief that it’s untrue. I cling to a possibility that it’s a variable. I would. Really, I would. I’ll try.
  At least, I can say; I’ve done what I could. I have done what I would.
  At least, I’d be able to pardon myself.
  
  Just let it flow. Just let it pass by. I’ll catch up, I’ll ride the waves.
  And I’ll hold on to the very words you whispered to my ears.
  Because I want to believe; I want to trust; I want to go through it, once again.
  
  
  Little-Pizza
  

  • 12:16 PM
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