unspoken truths

words do not come out
my throat dry -

look deep into my eyes and see
all the unspoken truths I dare not confess

the past recedes

and then the past recedes,
and I won't be involved.-
the effort to be free
seems pointless from above. [jf - the past recedes]


the past is comforting - the uglyness and misunderstandings leaving the memories. the old and long lost comes back, familiar - a little scary, but very well known - like a lost relative.

what to do? keeping on running from it, towards the new and the unknown? or is it the same story that repeats itself anyways?

sometimes I wish I could stop for a moment