m-i-s-s-i-n-g some.

last week was the most peaceful week i can recall. thank God for everything.
i want to be content. not to want more of what i cant get, cant be,
it is so difficult.
the london bombings are just horrid.
how can anyone believe in a cause that explodes people- what good comes of it?
none.
i'm sorry for those whose close ones are MISSING. its a fearsome word,
so much space in it for danger, so much potential for harm, for fear
-the wasteland of imagination.
it scares me that all i can feel is sorry for them, not more. though i'd like to.
im trying to be honest here.
after a while the talk dies down, and there's all there is-
talk of solidarity, talk of the horrors of terrorism, gossip talk, sympathy talk, angry talk-
but no face to direct it towards, nobody who can reply.

they have all slipped on

but still i stand here trapped

-i still hurt.

-thats what i'd imagine i would say if i were one of them.

the victims are missed in more than one sense of the word.

'you reap what you sow.' what about the weather? -purvis. i shouldnt give him so much recognition here.

something in me just wants more- of what? of who? for what? for who?

we skate past current moments, only to haunt them in later years with regret.