Only time and love of self can mend a broken heart. That ache, well it might not go away. But it will subside. When I talk to myself, one of us is devil’s advocate. I’m in a mental hospital called life.
I stuck myself inside a time capsule and buried myself at 27, and I came out and saw how the world had changed. I emerged and saw how my life had changed. I broke the shell and saw how my mind had changed. I shed my skin and saw my suitcase full of dreams and ambition sitting there covered with dust. You’re only as old as you feel, and I don’t feel like being old. An old soul, maybe, but not old.
It all becomes troublesome sometimes, but that’s why there’s wine, to walk the fine lines.
I’m beautifully overflowing, of course – it’s hard to keep emotions inside a broken container.