Glue...
March 12, 2008 at 13:16 PST
Love is a funny machine.
An all encompassing traitor who will sell your soul while sending kisses across the chapping breeze.
Wine.
The emotion invoking liquid.
Glue holding us together.
While plotting a drowning.
Or two.
Lies, while apparent refuse to fit into a desperate mold.
So therefore I ignored.
Asphyxiation in truth, fore lack of option.
Forcibly, I saw.
Recovery, a slippery word of hope.
Denial, playing a larger role than I would have liked.
Stories I told myself, excuses arranged in perfect order.
For once in my life I truly gave.
And in return, was truly denied.
Failure when it meant the most.
Following me around like a lost child holding hope of security.
And I allow.
Displayed as a cloak of my progress.
A shamble of reconstruction.
Your name growing tired.
Used in previous entries spilling of false grandeur.
Now nothing more than a simple recollection...jle