The only negative of hatch day was that my half-heartedly promised birthday gift didn’t happen and I had a glimmer of thinking (there’s my real problem: thinking) that maybe it might pan out today. But, this game is just a game. Oh well. I’m rewinding to Sunday’s resolutions. Maybe. I think. Probably. If I can. But not out of spite, but out of love and out of self-preservation and—mostly—out of continued hope.
These have to be watched in order so that the million dollar question can be asked: is it where we start or where we end that matters most …?
As wicked as you are
You’re beautiful to me
There you stood in disbelief,
trying all you could to see through these lies
And every word that I could breathe,
would find you more inclined to leave, but I tried
And knowing what I’ve done to you,
with every thought you suffer through
My heart as black as evil can
And everything I could have been,
erased by what I wanted then
I couldn’t think a lesser manAll the delicate ways
That I deepened our graves
My apology pales
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