why
By Cinderella
Why now. Why me. Why is this the only thing I can think about. In all the good things we have we think about these?? Why is this the only reason we communicate? Why is it only yelling that echoes out of our hearts and into each others minds? Why is the only sound, the sound of breathless rage and anger manifesting. Is it so hard to shape the words that are buried? To swallow the faceless pride and break the barrier of anguish. That would be too big. That would take too much love and strength for these mindless, heartless monsters.Please comment on anything at any time. I believe in constructive critism, so try not to kill me. Written April 5th, 2002 © on Apr 05 2002 03:39 AM PST 0 • 12
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"Why now. Why me. Why is this the only thing I can think about. In all the good things we have we think about these?? Why is this the only reason we communicate? Why is it only yelling that echoes out of our hearts and into each others minds? Why is the only sound, the sound of breathless rage and anger manifesting. Is it so hard to shape the words that are buried? To swallow the faceless pride and break the barrier of anguish. That would be too big. That would take too much love and strength for these mindless, heartless monsters.Please comment on anything at any time. I believe in constructive critism, so try not to kill me...."