that's life.

i watched them walk off together into the dimmest part of the woods.
(he slipped his hand beneath the back of her silk shirt and touched the small of her back)
i remember her laughing.

as if calling my name i heard the wind howl at me, yelling to me
and whipping my hair back,
pulling me with her long whispy fingers,
forcing me to turn around and walk away.

my tears must have frozen before they hit the ground
(it was so cold that night i couldn't tell if i had limbs or not)
i remember slamming my fist on the hood of the red car infront of me just to make sure i could feel.
(i felt nothing.)

the track below my feet the next day was solid
and the straight white chalk-line swiping the middle of its length compelled me to keep running.
(i hate tracks.  they're too constant.)
people complain over change.  
            but i thrive on it.  
                   in fact, i breath it.  

maybe i've figured out the master plan.  
or.
maybe i've thrown myself into some bottomless pit that i can't scratch my way out of.  
(life.  fair?
you gotta be kidding me.)