Even when I’m laughing, I’m crying in some small part of me–
the part that sees the light, but feels the dark press over my shoulder.Close.
Sure steps are only as sure as this fragile moment,
for life is fractured, tenuous, and
those who forget are lost.
Even when I’m laughing, I’m crying
for redemption.
I cry with you.
ReplyDeleteThere are many of those days . . .
DeleteThank you.