the deluded ones [#2]

awake.

february 22nd, 2017

there is something peculiar about visiting your childhood places with the same people you once went with to those places.

as i held my mother's hand and we wandered the paths, i felt like a child again.

although i am still only a bud in growth, i have grown since then, and, as we walk the paths of the past, i feel as if i'm remembering the simplicity of what i thought i knew.

and when i rest my head against my mother's shoulders, i feel at home. no matter how many times i have shed the tears of sorrow or torn off parts of the rope that links us together, a part of me still knows that there is only one home of the past.

although life has aged and rocks have eroded away, a love of a family will be torn and worn down, but it'll never disappear upon daybreak.