Twenty three.
Twenty three. When did we become grown? I never noticed the seeds of the cynic being sown. Twenty three. When did we become safe? We pray to feel pleasure and hate when we have to feel pain. We pretend when we find the end of ourselves. Afraid to be real so we say that we’re somebody else. Finally. I can see with your eyes. That everyone angry is only just aching inside. Twenty three. When the sun sets tonight. There’s always a reason we just cannot leave it behind.
I turn twenty three in minutes. I hope I can leave it behind.
“i could not wait to be something at twenty three”
:) H-B, missy.
26 November 2006 at 1:35Ah… to be 23 again. Happy Birthday!
26 November 2006 at 4:5723 was my favourite year. I hope it is your favourite year as well. Happy Birthday Sweet Pea!!!!
26 November 2006 at 17:46