Dream Life

                                                                          to my mind: we are at war, you and me, an everlasting exchange of indults and new wounds and apologies that always come just a little too late. by the time you say i'm sorry i have already absorbed the blow. a new battle scar has risen on my skin. my body cannot defend itself from you anymore. and i'm scared a truce will never come.

  She speaks to me fondly of passions and talents,      guitars and stars,      then stops short  and apologies for speaking at all. All because somewhere in her life, someone she loved broke her heart by ignoring her beautiful words      and telling her to         shut up,        keep it down,       nobody cares.    People aren't born sad.    We make them that way.