2005-04-24
The Puddle That Was A Little Girl

You dissolved from my fingertips so quickly. Like a ghost, you're here and then you're gone again, and I can't remember if it was real or if it was all just the sweetest dream.

I stared steely eyed at myself in the mirror, unable to cry for my denial and disbelief. I whispered silently at my figure in the dark, so this is what it feels like to wake up.

I need someone to teach me not to be so sad when these things happen. Joy in memories and anticipation, rather than pain too keen at departure. Wouldn't that be better? Can't the good outweigh the bad?

before & & after