Monday, April 18, 2011

Never Too Late

Maybe this isn't real at all. Maybe my fears are what really fuel this reality of ours. Maybe that's why I can never see past an evening that whizzed by us last year. And maybe it wasn't just last year. Maybe this started years ago, in my windowless room that I shared with my sister, when I probably didn't know that 'maybes' existed. Maybe it's all in my head, weeded in, grown out of the psychobabble that I'm subjected to on a daily basis from people who don't give a dime about someone else's sanity. And just maybe you and I should have left it like it was. Subdued. Strangled. A secret.

3 comments:

Sara said...

Obscure but I could tell it came from your heart.

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vimal said...

damn