theconfusechild

     I saw through repetition the man in dark overalls hack away at logs for kindling. One. Two . Three. Four. The pattern laid itself out in front of me, the four sweeping motions and the hesitation as he paused for breath, and I sat watching trough the spaces between the planks of the fence that separated our yards. One. Two. Three. Four. He cut with a brutal force, occasionally stopping to measure the logs against each other, determining that they were of equal size. I imagined the branches as limbs and the trees struggling, their tongues mute to any language he could comprehend, but I could hear them screaming. I

You taught me not to believe in coincidence, Because life was more concrete than fate And I should learn to put my hopes in something more visible than dreams. And that was when I had nothing else clutched in my grasp But time, and wishes, and ignorance. Bliss. Now it seems as though I've relied too much on the impossible And it feels as though we stood against the boundaries of forever, Much longer than infinity. There was once a time before, when I could look up at the stars And knew all of their names and they greeted me with the familiar air of friends. Now it seems as though the heavens are empty, And I've succumbed to whispe