...my lifes become a wreck of wrecks all crashing into eachother on the journey to becoming perfectly shattered...
Monday, October 17, 2005
The soul of the rose is a bittersweet thing. Once uncovered it is near it's end. Only in the shelter of the bud will it know safety, and in the recklessness of unfurlment will it know life. The sweetness of dew kissed mornings before the harshness of death. I choose to bloom. To drop my petals one by one until they can fall no more and I am left exposed to the bare beauty of life.