I get to remembering sometimes, the times I thought I had things figured out, where things just made sense and for whatever reason I was capable of being proud of myself, in my green uniform, walking through the woods on muggy summer days, towards a girl scout troop meeting. Somehow, it seemed easier then to find my footsteps through a world which offered me little comfort, but held so much hope.

The older I get, the harder it gets to hang onto that hope. The hope that things will get better, that things will work out... that somehow I'll continue to find the right places to walk.

I get so tired sometimes, of thinking the things I think. The slow leak of faith, and optimism spilling out of me slowly, through invisible cracks in my armor, of love. My heart feels a little more barren tonight, as I stare out the window wondering if anyone is looking at my stars with me, thinking about me, as I always think about them.

And then, the mood shifts, the wind blows through the trees, against my white exposed skin, peaking out from under a white T-shirt that should have been washed two days ago. Goosebumps dot my flesh, and I can't help but shiver, from the inside out.

It's in those moments where I feel lonely.

[This message has been edited by Poets (edited May 06, 2001).]