Prologue

Lately, you to me, isn't as it used to be
It's as if I'm reading our story,
but it's too familiar
and I already know the ending.

However, do not wish for a happier tale
My issue isn't with the end
It's the boredom found within
and that omniscient sense that we fail.

After time, even your favorite books lose their luster.

story of a new life

each day
i distance myself from you
ahead
i'm lifting my face to the sky
muscles unbounded
arms out

how wonderful life appears
awash in the colors of dawn

i live free