up to this point the story has been played out, sometimes failing, and sometimes in time.
but always present and always feeling just this close to breaking.
there was nowhere else to go and nowhere would have been right.
hiding in corners, hoping for curtains or shadows to hide behind and change the colors of feeling.
building something out of nothing again.
a wall, a door, a pillar, and another place to live and change.
changing again, transparent and out of focus, but with the best intentions always in mind.
but always this close to breaking and the running away never helps.
and the holes that you dig are always deeper, though better informed.
(as much as it hurts) they were right when they said, "change is the only constant."
so i'll keep this salt in my wound.
so i can keep that in mind.