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hamartia December 24, 2003 wednesday - 20:20 he grew quiet as the words meshed and joined and stopped meaning anything. his pencil tip broke and lead flowered on the diary page. he put the pencil down gently because he felt like breaking it. the diary was tossed onto his bed, the pages ruffling. each page a story, each a hurt, each remembering how his heart had been broken, over and over again. beyond the room, beyond the house, beyond the neighbourhood, homecomings were taking place. his friends, back from all over the world, for christmas, for a fortnight, for a flicker of time, for the blink of an eye. he didn't know who was back and who was not. but they would be leaving anyway. he closed his eyes heavily. because he had love but nobody to give it to. because he had courage but nothing to die for. because he had tears but no pain to cry for. and his heart, which had been broken over and over and over again. diaryland | archive | newest entry | profile
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