Reenactments

I sit like a ghostly image watching the shadows of a family I have seemingly bumped into. It's a beautiful wave of sadness and excitement. What am I to do with their love? I have basked in their sun rays and swam in their gulf waters. I cling to the brooch on my shirt reminding me of where I came from. My past haunting and resilient, it follows a sultry trail of lust and dismemberment from ones self. It is beautifully painful, beautifully smoky and sultry. I am reminded of the battles within, the pictures replayed over and over; the old saw mill by the river, the battle fields full of reenactments. There is a cyclorama of this somewhere. It is a beautiful blur and I own all of its responsibility, it's life, and it's future. I. Am. It. I. Am. Life. I. Am. Humankind put to test life's struggles. I. Am. Drunk.Philosophically sound but heading toward the verge of breaking into a new light. I am a story without an ending...and I am ok with that(: