September 7, 1998

I am watching you become a stranger. Time apart has taken its toll but it was on your terms that “we” are no longer alive. The sweet taste of freedom that used to rest on my lips has been replaced by a bitterness too stout to deny. I am living for the green and forgetting about my dream, but what happened to that shoulder I used to lean on? When there is trouble in paradise my presence is needed. A pacifist I may be but let it be known that underneath a shy smile and a weak demeanor usually exists strength that is not to be reckoned with.


Author: Lindsay Niemann

Writer | Graphic Artist