like scribbling words on a page, sometimes i don't look.
i just scribble and scribble until all the space on the page is covered.
all the juice is gone. the last drop has fallen into the glass. but, the glass melts into the surface, leaving me nothing.
no where to run anymore. i've confined myself into the small room. my emotions tearing and screaming at me. "be careful" some say. "hold on", "move on". "go with the flow".
i begin to get whiplash. so many different people pulling at my heart strings at the same time. which way to go?
running inside me. left, right, up, and down. i just want to know what they all think. that would help me make up my mind.
always,
kara
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