Wednesday, September 23, 2009
What’s left is abused, burnt, and broken. It is a network of scars. What’s left exhibits the tempering effects of violence and neglect. It has been paying attention, listening, learning and enduring. It’s a forgotten friend who commiserates and damns. It limps and accuses. It loves and hates. What’s left breathes the same air that we do. Indifferently, it reflects our unflattering traits, but reveals their subtle, humanizing beauty. What’s left is the filter and an empty bottle.