When You're Not Looking

I just wonder where you end and I begin. Are we both the same? Are we just all one? I can't lie, I fear the life between here and death. I fear waking up at the age of 50 with gray hair, arm fat, and cellulite, and realizing I did it all wrong, all wrong. I'll wake up from nightmare at night and fling myself towards the light switch, because there are still nights that I can't sit alone in the dark. And I wonder, are those two the same?

posted by molly @ 11:29 PM