still counting.
still holding on.
can't let go.
heart still beating.
we keep moving.
i can't fathom the day that this is no more.
i can't think hard enough about what lies ahead.
will i ever be just enough?
"will my love ever be enough?"
"yes. yes. yes. yes. yes. yes."
i guess i'll just keep on until i reach the sea.
(click the photo stream above for myspace) hi. i'm erica jean holmes, twenty-one years young, and as hell bound as they come. i am only half the mess you think i am. i am only half the mess you take me for. i hardly sleep at night. my tiny hands and feet take turns, always being cold. composed "souly" of words, comma splices, metaphors, and run on sentences. flawed. grammatically incorrect, and i like it that way. nothing about me is anywhere near perfect and it's appealing. i'm alive again, my heart is whole again, and i'm going to be alright. i'm a very small person in a very big world, and that's okay, because i was born to word it well.
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