From living comes
Experiences in growing and failing
Where we were told that to fail is a fate worse than death
But to live is to be broken and to be broken
Is to have been vulnerable and used by others for better or for worse.
From my first love came pain from being too young but also too old
From not knowing my worth came mistakes that could have been avoided and with many tries
to make one thing last comes the poisonous dust of wasted time, dust streaked with tears.
O, to take what we love inside,
To carry within us turmoil and anger
Not only the desire to grow, but an opposition to change
Not only a desire to be cold and hateful, but a need to be loved,
to live As if there was no end to our days,
then run towards the end of forever.
There are days we live as if death were an enemy Rather than a friend. We live in fear of being
forgotten By those we loved, by the ones we wanted to be loved by.
