The Motion..

At the point of admittance but not acceptance... It still hurts... It is fresh.. New, ironically... The details of what led to the ending are so vivid you can still taste what you ate that day... You can remember the smells from the environment... The strength of the wind... The color of the eyes of the only person who gave you smile that day, unbeknownst to your shattered heart... You give yourself excuses to remain strong, not to be seen in a vulnerable state, mistaken for being weak... Can you cry? Your psyche won't let you... Weakness is for those who accept it they say... But those broken pieces of heart can't fix themselves... Insecurities and questions commence in maturation, also ironic... Being swept under the rug makes this a means for repetitiveness... Knowing and acknowledging weakness is a means of knowing what strength really is... Be weak sometimes, and then grow... FFT