shameless

here i am as always, telling the different stories of the same stories of the experiences that shape my bones and give me a name.

everything was in ruins at the touch of every day without... him, and now his name stares back at me in the mirror, a wonder and a stranger to me.

Sounds like your past is staring at you in that mirror. When past and present collide by a chance encounter, even the strongest glue in life can melt away....Love your poem

thanks, Mary Anne.

my past is always staring back at me in the mirror, 'the past didnt go anywhere, did it?'

it's always there, it's the length of your hair and the glow in your eyes, it's on your skin and in your hands.

Blue; The past only "shapes" us; tomorrow "defines" us. (think about it) TOMORROW is only dreaded as coming until it arrives and then it is TODAY. . . . . (holding not only possibilities, but, hopefully, welcome prospects. . . . .

We love 'ya, Blue. Welcome Home!

i dont live in the past, i live where i'm at and who i am.

i dont believe i'm defined by my past, nor do i believe my future will
define me.

how can one ever define oneself? to do so would be to limit oneself.