We fight so hard for the complacency of a bureaucratic democracy. But what happens when the institution fails us?
Wound in my soul are the gutter marks of insanity.
Is there a limit to human suffering or peace?
I worry about the darkness in the world, forgetting that others have tasted it.
Can you love without caring?
Perhaps my tears are not for sadness or discomfort...perhaps my tears are my heart's desire to reach out and feel something more.
It is not the idea of foreign agents that worries me. It's the neighboring heart.
What is it about the human heart that sighs for contentment but ribs at its mark?
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