At 7a.m the house is quiet but my brain.
Memories are digging into my head.
The bed drains my body each morning but holds my heavy brain. And I wonder when I would be able to get out and do something.
What is the way out?
But
now let me have more time to sleep. Until 8a.m that should be enough...
It is 7.30 the alarm chides.
Should I awake and see what I can probably do or just have more sleep?
I am afraid that there are too many beautiful, happy, moments around
But
eventually they would disappear by time.

I hate summer vacations...

9p.m my father says, 'you might end up all alone by yourself.'
I thought to myself:
aren't we all be oneday?
Then at the same moment my mother replies, 'I'm here right beside her. No worries.'
Then, I am fine. There is my mother.

For the twenty three passed years and maybe even more or for the rest of all this world would last, I want to be comfortable with my own existence.
I want to be happy, very.

The evidence:
a thickened chest and a dim grin,
which triumph over my strong insouciance
After twenty two
plus hope,
though yet ungrasped,
the chasm between our scopes has not narrowed!
I glided past you, above the whim of time,
you did not notice
'We merely coexisted almost met but always messed it,
spinning around like two sides of a coin'
My resistance,
for once as a raised voice,
importunes the years!
I am inclined to remain unknown,
no nearer,
lest I upset fate
It is better;
one thing to do that I have never done:
send you a poem
(How Do I Love Thee?)
You are you;
I am I
What is meant to be will always find its way
Espy!