The burden of life is that it gnaws at the edges of our sensibilities,
Sometimes they’re tossed asunder, in new places. A phoenix is born from the flames of self-doubt.
When your ego expands, you’re only your own worst enemy,
Caught between you and yourself.
The man I was is just an addition of the man I’ve become.
One spoken-about layer after another,
Until,
Until?
You threaten to cave the sandcastle back into the sand.
If not by your hand, then by the contigencies of a more fickle man.
Sin Amor 