doves have no place or purpose here.




and so it hits me again-
a wave of bitter, stinging, radical, intimate
kind of nostalgia-
sometimes i wish i could take everything back
eventually i'll always come round to my senses,
but i can wish
and i can hope
and i can sigh
and i can remember,
and i would cry.
okay maybe i'll not post up stuff on this blog.




im in love with Fallen by Sarah Mclachlan.
that was random enough.



nights.