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Jan. 12th, 2006 12:30 amYou’ll never see the courage I know
Its colors’ richness won’t appear within your view
I’ll never glow - the way that you glow
Your presence dominates the judgements made on you
But as the scenery grows, I see in different lights
The shades and shadows undulate in my perception
My feelings swell and stretch; I see from greater heights
I understand what I am still too proud to mention - to you
Dear Fred,
We did this before, didn't we? Sitting down, writing a letter to ourselves and playing and pretending with something that felt like advice. As if I'm in any such position, or place. But this is something different, and you and I both know it. Both...because it's different, isn't it? We're different.
We are different.
I kept waiting you know. I suppose I'm still waiting in the moments that I'm quiet, and honest with myself. I'm waiting for you to show me how you're a part of this. I refuse to belive that it's random, a shock of the unplanned into my life, and their lives, simply because it could. There's a root to the cause, and I'm still trying to sort out exactly where that is. But I'm pretty sure that some of it has to rest with you.
At first I thought it must have been Wolfram and Hart, behind bringing me here. We were all working there after all, and it was their lab, their job, their decisions wrapped up in pretty memos to look like ours. Maybe it had just been another way to put more floors and walls between all of us, to tear away at what made us strong and pick away at us one by one. Maybe I'd simply been the first one to fall, lost in a more complete way, so there wasn't any going back.
Or coming after me.
But I don't need to write about the swirling in my head about that do I? You know it, you see it, and I suppose you're thinking it too. And maybe...all I get is once. Maybe once is all there is. But all that aside sometimes some answers are as simple as following one point to the other. And the simple answer here is that I left Wolfram and Hart. I don't work there anymore, but maybe it's more truthful to say they let me work somewhere else. There were a lot of lessons shoved into that space, all that life we lived after the hotel. You know that even better than I do, but even the part I lived, and lost is more than enough. They might not've let me walk away at all. I might still be living in them, for them, after them, hating them, and after all that still knowing that it's still not done. What they might do to me. To them. What they did do to you. What you let them do...
But I want it to be you.
( Read more... )
Its colors’ richness won’t appear within your view
I’ll never glow - the way that you glow
Your presence dominates the judgements made on you
But as the scenery grows, I see in different lights
The shades and shadows undulate in my perception
My feelings swell and stretch; I see from greater heights
I understand what I am still too proud to mention - to you
Dear Fred,
We did this before, didn't we? Sitting down, writing a letter to ourselves and playing and pretending with something that felt like advice. As if I'm in any such position, or place. But this is something different, and you and I both know it. Both...because it's different, isn't it? We're different.
We are different.
I kept waiting you know. I suppose I'm still waiting in the moments that I'm quiet, and honest with myself. I'm waiting for you to show me how you're a part of this. I refuse to belive that it's random, a shock of the unplanned into my life, and their lives, simply because it could. There's a root to the cause, and I'm still trying to sort out exactly where that is. But I'm pretty sure that some of it has to rest with you.
At first I thought it must have been Wolfram and Hart, behind bringing me here. We were all working there after all, and it was their lab, their job, their decisions wrapped up in pretty memos to look like ours. Maybe it had just been another way to put more floors and walls between all of us, to tear away at what made us strong and pick away at us one by one. Maybe I'd simply been the first one to fall, lost in a more complete way, so there wasn't any going back.
Or coming after me.
But I don't need to write about the swirling in my head about that do I? You know it, you see it, and I suppose you're thinking it too. And maybe...all I get is once. Maybe once is all there is. But all that aside sometimes some answers are as simple as following one point to the other. And the simple answer here is that I left Wolfram and Hart. I don't work there anymore, but maybe it's more truthful to say they let me work somewhere else. There were a lot of lessons shoved into that space, all that life we lived after the hotel. You know that even better than I do, but even the part I lived, and lost is more than enough. They might not've let me walk away at all. I might still be living in them, for them, after them, hating them, and after all that still knowing that it's still not done. What they might do to me. To them. What they did do to you. What you let them do...
But I want it to be you.
( Read more... )
