Yesterday's

My yesterday's are all boxed up and neatly put away.

- Sheryl Crow

A fantasy these lyrics represent. A dream, a curse, a modern reality. Things are never so simple as we'd like. Time passes, but old wounds survive to cause pain when we least expect. Going someplace far away doesn't make things more clear. Alone, we never really find the solace we'd like to find. Scabs ripped away in a moment of weakness. An itch that cannot be ignored. Fresh blood flows from long sealed pains. The fresh bite cleansing and pure. Created by our own hands. Our own volition.

So many sources for internal misery. Sinkholes in our psyche that remain hidden and secret. An outward surface of peace and clarity. Underneath, revealed to be murky and unsure. Dangerous and going into depths unknown. They say you are fine, that everything will be OK. Left to wonder why. Left to wonder how to hide. To find a place to start over and be the way you hope and dream.

Don't you know why I cry? Or is it, I never said I'd cry...