Heartbreak is a funny thing,
it can lead you to discover new things about yourself,
for better,
or for worse.

The magic of love
is in its ability to heal
the b r o k e n.

Hearts of glass,
a fragile beauty,

beneath the light of love
we easily s
                    h
                       a
                         t
                           t e r;

s c a t t e r e d   stardust
glistening in the wind.

               In the center of your core
               is where you'll find me,
               nuzzled in the broken,
               diminishing your darkness
               with the light of my soul;

love softening every wound
sharpened by heartache.

We learn to say that we don't care,
As we begin to believe it.
We tell ourselves when we are hurt,
Not to share.
IDC...

Soon, we turn this ugly phrase, in upon ourselves,
A bad day, or treated badly?
Just remember those three,
Those deadly letters.
IDC...

What comes next is no surprise,
We use it for the smallest things,
A forgotten birthday,
Hopeful plea.
IDC...

How soon it becomes,
The easiest answer,
To each and every worry,
You need me?
IDC...

And then the fateful day does come,
When we have switched places,
We need assistance of some sort,
It falls upon deaf ears.
IDC...

We need to change,
This process we use,
And change the meaning,
Of three small letters.
IDC...

I don't care...
That's not true...
I give it thought...
Thus, I DO CARE!!!
IDC...

I DC...
I DO CARE!!!

Ever since she was young, Dahlia
wondered
about everything. She was
full of wonder, yet
somehow she felt less
than wonderful.
Less than.
Those words often stuck
with her like some
sort of treacherous taffy,
clinging to the every corner
of her mind.
Corners. She thought.
Why is it that the corners
are most easily cracked?
Like dried Winter lips
or cuticles.
It is as if the coming together—
the union—leaves them
that much more vulnerable.
This was a theme for Dahlia.
Why was it that she always
felt this exposed weakness,
this dependence,
whenever she came
together
with a new lover—
and then inevitably
came undone?
Leaving her more fragile than
when she began.
A heap on the floor—small
and wide-eyed—like
a child swimming
in his father's business suit.
Sleeves pouring over tiny hands,
so no one can reach them.