I learnt this year
that twelve months is not a long time.
And suddenly I was up staring at the dates
burning past; I
was still sunken in the last wintersleep
when spring danced its dance
and left me watching
from the dark corner
of the bar that my life had become:
the dim lights, and broken hearts,
and the drunken thought of you
rushing in and waltzing out.
I learnt that
you are only as tired
as your last mistake.
And that people only remembered
what they wanted to forget.
I began to measure time
in the ways your laughter changed
from a river-burst resonance of joy,
to a difficult trickle of a mighty
stream
drying up.
2014 has been a year of learning for me. But the most important thing I learnt this year about myself was that it was not enough to "feel" beautiful as it was also about "looking" it.
We will become silhouettes
of our glory days.
I am grateful for the people I met here. Wonderful, real people with hearts so full of love.
And so I haven't made any promises for the next year. Because when they break, they just make too much noise.