Now I remember!

It was the search for love itself that, in the end, would be the reason I am denied it.

How ironic.

I should write a screenplay. It would be dramatic… and funny in that heart-wrenching, so-sad-you-have-to-laugh kind of way.

Along my path I’ve re-arranged the pebbles, as I walked through hell to find you.

Hidden beneath the apple tree cut up by blades of grass, you catch my eye. And wipe the blood from your self.

You stand like victory. Your body smiles. Your ever crippling aches slide down your legs and drip off your toes.

The clouds part and stare at us, so proud. And I see… you’re looking through me. You’re looking behind me.

Looking closer, further in the distance……….. The muddy path I’ve found you through……….. has left my feet so burnt and soiled. And you can’t let soiled feet in your bed. No matter how they got that way.