Wednesday, Dec. 01, 2004 @ 10:34 pm
Winter Skeletons
December, welcome. Day breaks and the sun illuminates the sparkling peaks in hues of purple, pink and orange. The fog lies low to the harbour, the snow hugs low to the houses creeping up the mountainside. Thick plumes rear like horses from the fog.
I love you, really, but I'm not sure that I can love you forever. Who is ever sure? That moment that you made me doubt (a moment ironically generated from my very own doubting actions) I lost something. I lost that naive joy of loving.
I need time to figure this out. I'm afraid to foolishly push you away for want of a more creative, adventurous being. You're solid and stable and more loving than I ever expected. I'm just not sure if I can contain my spirit, if you can hold me down, when all I can think about is when I will make my next flight...
�
