Wednesday, June 27, 2012

It falls through my cracks

It keeps slipping, like water through my fingers. Even though it's not hard to close and cup my hand, I choose not to move it. Simple things that add up, and when the spill is noticeable it has become too late to pick up.

And I hate that. Yet, I have to accept it. Move on and try it again. Sometimes I feel so compelled to make up for it, but it really doesn't change anything.

My fingers are still and stiff but they are still there. They are still usable, they are out of shape. I know how to move them. I think I will.

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