i lie to myself and by myself quietly, smiling to sleep that it's okay~ it's okay that those whom i've loved are happier now, beyond me...
i lie to myself and by myself quietly, sighing to the window that it's okay~ it's okay i am alone and lonely, finding a path beyond my own...

one day~ yesterday~ i was not bitter or jaded. the memories of who i was are not yet faint enough to delay this pain, the pain a snail must feel as she builds her shell.... an intricate, stone hard case, a beautiful trap whose purpose is to protect, to alienate...i wonder does she weep from behind that impenetrable swirl? does she long to be naked and just... not tense? i wonder if this particular snail remembers naivete like a treasure...the belief that things like love and hate are simple and easy to understand.

i lie to myself and by myself, watching her on the window sill, precarious movements testing the air and the edge... i lay beside her and pray she doesn't fall.