Hasn't hit me yet.
Life goes on, but everytime I look at her things are different.
Now I know something. It's a horrible something.
And if I would have known sooner I would have been more helpful.
But I guess that's not the right heart behind it anyway, then.
If only.
I am at fault. A painful fault.
And now I have so much responsibility to make it better.
Even more than I thought I had before.
Why can't things be different. Easier.
I have the head knowledge to get me through.
But can't seem to apply it to my heart.
I'm so sick of change. Bitterly sick.
But this one...the possibility of this one:
It's the worse one yet.
Makes the others seem insignificant.
It only things could be normal.
She gives and gives and gives.
Carries all the burden by herself.
Is dying on the inside. Why?
Why is this happening? Again.
I'm begging You to be my escape.
posted by Amy @ 8:54 a.m.
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