Turnstyles in the heart seat memories one rotation at a time. You drink because then it's so much easier to listen to the noise of all those passengers passing through them.
Because the truth is you don't want them to go anywhere. But go they still do. To places you can't follow. To destinations you wish you knew.
It just kinda happens. You wake up one morning and you're not who you were the night before. Soft habits harden and you can break them, but you just keep wishing they were still soft. Like they used to be. When you could still mold them into the shapes that you saw fit.
It just happens. Like everything in life does. Not with a shout, but rather with a whisper.
You could break it. But then all you would have is the pieces. And what to do with them?
Thursday
12/01/2005 10:50:00 PM
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