in order for a seed to grow, it must first burst its shell of limitations.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
The road is fuzzy
I woke up and wondered what I was going to do with the stack of emails that are sitting next to my bed. So filled with hope. Now dead. What comes at the end of a relationship. Is not the same at the end of life. I wish tears washed out feelings. And left me clean anew. Only they don't. And everything is the same. At the start again.