Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Growing Pains

It aches. This changing of seasons pushes my eyelids, lowering the horizon. My bones are too tired to cry out, choosing to whimper and moan like lost puppies. The stuff that breaks your heart. Winter has come before to this home. It's shaken white flags of pretense and flashed cold promises of peace, but always Spring comes. And so I will comfort my weary thoughts with stories of storms weathered.

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