There used to be a passion in this small maiden form who used to long for worlds afar and dream of people she'd meet and be but now she finds herself alone and though not necessarily lonely, she doesn't quite know what to do with this new emotion, this new doubt, this new welling up of needs and instincts that contradict all the ones she's known before. She isn't unhappy, she doesn't have regrets. She just isn't the same person she used to be before. Her pen goes to paper and pours out different words, different ideas than the ones she thought she had. Could it be that she is changing more than the places around her?
No comments:
Post a Comment