and she wonders... is it too late
She looks at her reflection on the window's glass wondering... She is like a crazy math professor that has subtracted and subtracted, never adding and is surprised because at the end there is nothing left. She wasted time listening to old songs and writing about old sunsets delighting in the closeness that she felt with what she remembered used to be. She told of the colors that illuminated the birth of every day but failed to realize their absence from her garden's dawn, never noticing the... Sign in to see full entry.