aosid's Diaryland Diary

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to my martyr

this was conceived as a letter, undelivered upon further thought - my peace is somewhat repaired since that morning, and so the urge to inflict chaos is diminished in turn. also, it's kind of uninteresting (at least it's representative)

i can respect the sanctity of careful thought
(heavens know i indulge myself)
but i cannot stand the finality:
those sudden stolen bits of truth
in dewy morning grass
the quick certainty of your hand in mine -
these are moments
which flash past me with every breath
and whose end stings me with every beat.

i know something
of timing and time
of thought and excess of it
and i know something
of the decisions they lead us into

but i also know something
of what i wanted to promise you -
that surety, that rightness, that peace -

i need to defy your careful choice, because
i promise you that it is mistaken.
i promise you that the stars were never untrue
that thought has betrayed you
that your faith was well-placed in leaping
that there is so much left in us
that we needn't die off in some September dream.

5:31 a.m. - 2011-09-19

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