no matter how brightly the sun shines
if the dust on the window goes untouched
all we get is a soft haze.

wake up.

that window won't clean itself.

when i was younger i saw my daddy cry
and curse at the wind
he broke his own heart and i watched
as he tried to reassemble it

and my mother swore that she would never
let herself forget
and that was the day that i promised
i'd never sing of love if it does not exist
but darling...


sixteen months.
seems like so much longer, really.

i am facing the skeletons in the closet, the bodies under the bed. too many things have been plaguing me without my realization or my intervention-- and i can decide to be happy as much as i want, but i can't keep putting bandaids over gaping holes. Its time to cut away the infection, sew them closed, and kiss them to make them feel better.

i find that i love more.
i love others
i love myself
i love God

but i've never been one to settle for the mediocre when offered a chance to be the best i can at something that truly matters.
and since love truly matters.

sixteen months. i'm still breathing. =]

life doesn't make sense.

i don't know how sensible people survive.