"Hot coffee, hot black coffee. Burns my tongue, can't speak for a few minutes, can't say much except hell I should have waited. Waited, waiting, wait, ah hell, whatever for? I got too much to do, too much to see, as my world closes in I am breaking out, hell it's time again I left everybody behind and did my own stuff. Flying on my dark wings, build my own castles in the air, out of white clouds, dark clouds, clouds with silver linings, ah who the hell would care? Mornings I look myself in the eyes and see someone else trying to live each day, trying to love even though it's not wanted. Tried, trying, try, whatever for? Hope kills life and life kills love. One day I will be living in my own castle, my castle in the air, as I build on each hope that fades, and each love that dies."
Flying© Copyright Property of Antoinette Yzelman, September 2005
Just a piece of what I've started writing - I don't know if it makes much sense to anyone at all.
And before I forget, this piece is dedicated to one of my best and oldest friends, Stephanie, who knows me like the back of her hand. She sent me this picture of her posing with a colleague because she thought she looked better in this one...
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