what is the half-life of the human spirit?
it is possible to live broken when all the pieces still work. it is possible to wear your heart on your sleeves when it's made of paper and glass. it is possible to fall down and stand up again as someone new. it is possible life is pointless, that there is nothing more.
i believed in yesterday when his fingers found mine, when his eyes pierced through the mask i've been wearing so long i forget it's even there. I believed in the tomorrow, the sense that i am headed in the right direction, despite wandering aimlessly through the woods in the twilight.
each fragment has a heart piece. each piece can be given away until nothing is left. each piece can come together if only everyone would agree, just once.
sitting in the woods, legs numb and hands shaking, wanting to disappear. but before it's too late, there is someone out there. searching but not finding. but i find the will to lift my legs and slowly find my way.
this is hopeless. something has to give. at some point. i am lost in this sea. the confusion and lack of solid ground have led me into darkness.
what is next? how many souls have found my light and hated that they couldn't keep it all for their own?
angels are supposed to have wings.