{"id":421,"date":"2008-12-31T22:11:51","date_gmt":"2008-12-31T19:11:51","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.puremassacre.com\/?p=421"},"modified":"2009-01-01T01:47:55","modified_gmt":"2008-12-31T22:47:55","slug":"year-eight","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.puremassacre.com\/?p=421","title":{"rendered":"Year Eight."},"content":{"rendered":"<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter size-medium wp-image-424\" title=\"moon_light\" src=\"http:\/\/www.puremassacre.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2008\/12\/moon_light-300x195.jpg\" alt=\"moon_light\" width=\"300\" height=\"195\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.puremassacre.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2008\/12\/moon_light-300x195.jpg 300w, https:\/\/www.puremassacre.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2008\/12\/moon_light.jpg 640w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px\" \/><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">This year of eight was tiring. It tested faiths, it separated a pair of white doves, and it colored a pale sad face. Could you define remarkable without griming the evidence of humility? Could you touch broken, and then lay a hand on a statue so lifeless and unmoving?<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">A broken window you gifted me,<br \/>\nThe glass you broke, you made me feel.<br \/>\nI lived in the moment, I burned my hands.<br \/>\nI felt resonating sensations,<br \/>\nAnd the tears<br \/>\nThey fell.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-423 aligncenter\" title=\"2690brokenwindowkennecott11x14p\" src=\"http:\/\/www.puremassacre.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2008\/12\/2690brokenwindowkennecott11x14p.jpg\" alt=\"2690brokenwindowkennecott11x14p\" width=\"275\" height=\"217\" \/><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">You own a heart.<br \/>\nAnd I squared myself.<br \/>\nI gave you a circle<br \/>\nAnd you hurt yourself.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">I too noticed<br \/>\nI too felt<br \/>\nI too understand<br \/>\nI too can melt.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">This was saturation on living, and the colors were perfectly mixed. I placed the paints to your lips \u00e2\u20ac\u201c and trailed my falling tears wetting your sleeve. In a moment you wash away, in a moment the delicate edges contouring your face give. Here is where I stood last night, and here is where your face compels my sanity at night.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">A blanket and a candle I held. A year is all I have and you left. Now I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m cuffed around my wrists, and you hold the keys. I speak and I feel, and I hold on to hurt. But letting go takes more of time and past guilt. I really am just me. I&#8217;m not titled wonderful and my veins don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t bleed in bliss. I&#8217;m clothed in fabrics in this cold, but when I walk past you I&#8217;m naked and warm.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-422 alignnone\" title=\"user3_pic2_1217420797\" src=\"http:\/\/www.puremassacre.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2008\/12\/user3_pic2_1217420797-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"user3_pic2_1217420797\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.puremassacre.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2008\/12\/user3_pic2_1217420797-300x225.jpg 300w, https:\/\/www.puremassacre.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2008\/12\/user3_pic2_1217420797.jpg 400w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px\" \/><br \/>\nIf you really appreciate a year, and the hurt it gives, I hope you appreciate who I am. I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t take back anything this year gave. Even if it was a bad year, even if I have a scratch or two, even if my bones are tired, and my feet are giving up on me. My heart is not made of steel, and I can easily break.  A year and everything has changed.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">I think in all my grey<br \/>\nHappiness kissed me,<br \/>\nBut before it did,<br \/>\nIt told me you make happiness what you make it seem.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">I&#8217;m so happy and the world tonight smiles again,<br \/>\nThe stars are dancing around the moonlight.<br \/>\nAnd as the moon stays for awhile,<br \/>\nTomorrow the sun will shine.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>This year of eight was tiring. It tested faiths, it separated a pair of white doves, and it colored a pale sad face. Could you define remarkable without griming the evidence of humility? Could you touch broken, and then lay a hand on a statue so lifeless and unmoving? A broken window you gifted me, [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[5,7,1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.puremassacre.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/421"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.puremassacre.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.puremassacre.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.puremassacre.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.puremassacre.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=421"}],"version-history":[{"count":16,"href":"https:\/\/www.puremassacre.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/421\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":435,"href":"https:\/\/www.puremassacre.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/421\/revisions\/435"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.puremassacre.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=421"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.puremassacre.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=421"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.puremassacre.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=421"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}