The Jackson Pollock Primal Hurl Art Therapy Group for Particularly Messy Serial Killers
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I'm here.

[today]Oct 2nd, 2006 11:31:10 am - Subscribe

and it will take me years
to understand
why dawn follows the night:
I would never see the light.

we are all too young to die,
too old to sleep,
too far away
to listen much.

tides wash away
to open water.

in the light,
emptiness -

in the darkness,
memory and sound.

she cried
on our shoulders -
he swam out
into cold water.
took a breath,
dived in -
she always loved him.

we would go back
at any time -
too young to sleep,
too old to die;

too caught up in sorrow
to sing very much
anymore.

where darkness parts
and we stand,
together,

where memory and sound
is still
and calm
and empty in the light;

and the song
banishes the fear,

a voice
in fallen leaves -

I do not claim to understand,
but I am here.

[I am]missing it.
[inspiration]this weekend.

[your thoughts]0

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