lucille

Life is funny.
I can see clearly how at sunset, the sunlight falling over the green trees looks alot like cheese melting over broccoli.
I can look at the man who makes me swoon and gives me chills, and imagine what loving him might be like.
I may never be smitten.
When I was younger and much more sensitive to the world's beauty, smell, being of things, I could feel what I was seeing.
Now I am some sort of voyeur gone wrong.
I stre through my glazed over looking glass and can only dream of what I long to feel......
Such is the sadness that is depression.
I am being told that someday I will enjoy these simple pleasures again, when I can let go of the only sensitivity I posess: Pain.
The child cries and so I must go.