What though the radiance which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;
"ode.
intimations of immortality from
recollections of early childhood."
_william wordsworth.
there are these things that i have gone through,
i've had to try to put back together.
pieces of my self, my memory, lying scattered,
these things i have shoved into boxes,
scribbled onto black and white pages.
i have swept them under the rug,
trying to forget, trying to protect.
screams and haunts, around every corner.
you ask me to excise them,
but the truth is,
i find my strength within them.
sincerely, tiffany.
