Tuesday, January 18, 2011

half ,

The terrible thing about love is that it takes away your safety net, your balancing pole.
Even the tightrope you walk upon will disappear beneath you, yet love expects you to keep walking anyway.
Arms outstretched, one foot after another, on nothing more than air.
 

I was the storm before the calm, the hopeless hanging on,
the words that came out wrong, but you heard me all along.