Who knew you could have a loss of innocence at fifty minus two.
Should I be proud?
Just how many layers of innocence are there?
Are they meant to insulate?
Is that a good thing?
Or is it make-believe?
Is it better to toughen up?
Questions like these are the ones I ponder this Brigid’s Day.
Because, I like innocence.
It’s spring-like… tender. delicate. full of promise…
but so fragile
How do we suffer such loss without hardening?
How do we feel… and then release… pain?
Do we want to?
Kelly Salasin, First of February, 2012
The post before this one: Just Say No
The post that came after: a timeline of heartbreak