Tuesday, October 11, 2011


whatever doesn't kill us only makes us stronger. but i don't think that's true. what if all those little things that "make us stronger" do kill us. maybe not right then. but later. all the small things adding up. and the strain on our heart and resolve becomes too much. all the scabs and scars that held us together. fall apart. rip from our souls. until we are left empty.

more than empty. we are now a negative. a black hole. we've turned so far into ourselves that we're upside down. inside out. backwards. waywards. all that remains isn't even a shell. we are simply a cavern.

as if all the small things. worked slowly. like the trickle of water over eons. breaking away. bit by precious bit. then the flood gates open. and all evidence of existence is washed away. all that is left is a canyon. impassable. implausible.

but. the water doesn't just destroy. all the pieces of us. tumbling along. rushing over rocks. passing by the detritus of other lives. to eventually slow. to saunter. to settle. to create an island. peninsula. a small haven.

i suppose it's that glimmer of hope.

the quiet promise of becoming something else.

after all that you are has been ripped away.

perhaps that's what makes us stronger.

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