Sometimes I see him as just another person, and sometimes I feel the sight of him in my gut, like a deep ache.
For a few minutes we kiss, deep in the chasm, with the roar of water all around us. And we rise, hand in hand, I realize that if we had both chosen differently, we might have ended up doing the same thing, in a safer place, in gray clothes instead of black ones.
Oh. I just assumed... That because I am so absorbed by him everyone must be too.
She can't possibly be me, though she moves when I move
I never thought I would need bravery in the small moments of my life. I do.
I know that change is difficult, and comes slowly, and that it is the work of many days strung together in a long line until the origin of them is forgotten.