Friday, November 2, 2012

Pocket Full of Stones

Trying to walk on water with a pocket full of stones, or others call life. I'm in love with a woman named Woolf and so I write her this love letter.

Dear Sylvia,

It has been thirty eight years since we have been intertwined in the emotions of love and lost. Not one day goes by I haven't thought of killing myself, not because I hate you but because I'm in love with the silence of forever in your arms. Isn't love the suicide of self for others and it is you that I want to slumber with forever.

"If you love it, let it go," they say. So if I could let you go then I could find true love, yet if I cling to you I will never know. I need to know. And if there is nothing in your absence then at least the questions will stop and I can leave this room, this empty room.

How could god allow such a hateful world, and then I read the book of job and realize it is all a bet against evil.

Forever in love,

Watching Wheels


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