((** I don't know why i'm posting this, as you can tell its just some jarbly free form stream of consciousness that I refuse to give a title. **))

THIS day; as if it wasn't - but always is.

Quietly forgetting what’s most important to those who felt it necessary to remember.

And; without - but never unconditionally.

Instead;I just keep tapping my toes to the phantom rhythm, never orchestrated by any of those who would've made it stand out amongst a crowded sea of influence - you know the ones; those bright glimmers burning their way through the passive wilderness of every man's blood pumped mind - 

Leaving behind a snow geyser, colored with the last full crayon to be left with its point.

And; I will always remember the joy that I found amongst the trees that allowed me to lie within the imagination that they too sat planted, like me – still.

Not knowing when;If ever - this life is going to make its way around to giving me that little glimpse of sunlight that it knows I need in order to survive.

And so; I will sit planted still - alone amongst the leave's wispy whispers, and the only honest lie to ever truly believe in me.

Errin Milam posted 05/05/2010