Things aren't what they seems once awakening to juxtapose pen to paper, scrawling out that reoccurring dream. Climbing out of the beautiful, beautiful mountain mist to the crispness of clarity, and the freezing twang of snow gracing your lips so carelessly, carelessly reminds you of reality. Bringing you back to all that was and is and all that will be. Again, hints go unnoticed, swept away like the last cookie crumbs hidden guiltily under the rug, tempting you to ask yourself, did you simply forget or try and run? All that was and all that will be changed so momentarily, as you attempted to find a new face in a new place and now watch that subtle unspoken dream come undone into a tangled half-finished blanket, draped by your half-drank coffee mug
like.
ReplyDelete