Scribblings of the Opiated Sherpa

My mind, hasn't stopped thinking, about you, ever since, you know. In a life, lacking moments, like those, you are only, number one. I know now, how you feel, and I can't help, but think, I am hurting myself. Maybe it's time, to not say anything. My lips are sealed, only until, you unlock the past.

I took the test, And I did my best. I answered the question, And I wrote down the rest. It asked about colors. It asked about red. It asked for a person, It was you that I said. I remembered that dress, From that memorable night, I remembered you, In the white light. So I wrote down your name, And continued to write, I finished the test, So if I checked if I was right. I looked at the colors, Went straight to red, For my eyes were amazed, I love you it said.

Once again, I find myself, Sitting and thinking, Thinking of you. My time is limited, Limited to what, You can't give me. I will miss you. I looked, Into your eyes, And I could see, Forever. But I knew, I couldn't explore, What your forever, Would mean to me. If I could, Stop time, In one moment, I would. I never thought, That it was, Going to be easy, And I was right. I hate having, To let go, And give up, On someone. You were, So different, Style, Action. We had, Shared, Our thoughts, Our opinions. I run, The past, The camp, On a maddening loop. Do I look, Too far, Into this, Into us. I wish, There was, More time, More us. Its crazy, What we, Could have, Had. Will we, See each other, Again, Maybe? Thank you, For your time, I needed, This.

I saw part of a war. It was on film. Glory with gory, And life with sacrifice. Men had lives, Lived before battle, Good lives, Of their own business. Some never made it home, To help their others, Have a home to come back to, Where their lives began. Would I go to war? Right now - I just might. For I have nothing. Nothing but the future. Few dreams, Can be sacrificed, For the dreams of the future, If our future was in peril.

Self-esteem, very little. Self-confidence, lacking. I saw you, I liked you, I wanted you. I didn't need that. Time, so short, so fast, not enough. What is was. What it could have been. What I wanted... it to be. Woulda, coulda, shoulda, didn't.

To be the fruit, Fruit of the tree, of everyone's lust, is an accomplishment. In the years, years of growth, years of ripening, should be taken slow. To see such beauty, beauty in such fruit, and taint it from within, dulls the beauty. Once tainted, the defiler is responsible, now for the beautiful fruit. No one will touch it now. To walk away, away from your poison, not to finish the job, is one of cowardliness. To grow new fruit, in the once beautiful one, is murder, murder of years to come. Tend the new fruit, make it grow, slowly and protected, from happening again.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing has changed. I go, from here, to there. Different city, different home, different family, no friends. Maybe, some things, have changed. The basis... hasn't. Still not... doing anything, no relationship, no fun. Only a week. A new life doesn't begin right away. I at least wish for my friends. Only my music... is my sanity.

As I look into my book, see all your faces, remember the memories, I realize... I will never forget you. I look around here, see the new buildings, make new memories, I still know... I was with the best. I take a peek to the future, the dark and unknown, never forgetting before, and with the hope... of seeing you all soon.