You don’t see me the same way as you used to,
And it’s all because of me,
I wanted too much too quickly
I wanted you to want me.

It was just such a rare feeling
So I knew it was real
Out of everyone I had met
You made my heart heal

I didn’t know how to feel
I didn’t know why
But I guess... it’s okay
Atleast were under the same sky.

I know you know.
That you can’t say
what you have to.
And i can feel the thunder,
the magma, the gas
boiling inside the whites of your eyes.

I feel the lack
of a feeling i felt when
we were once
dancing on water.

But now we sink.
Deep, Deep, Deep.
Until we hit the bottom.

The former me was immature
Was ignorant
Was insecure
Would instigate
And derogate
And hate
And hate
And hate
Irate
At something always
In the way,
Some implacable
Dismay
As sullen as
The color gray
Torrential was
The constant rain
Despondence
I still can’t explain
A rabid beast
I couldn’t tame
In every smiling face
Was pain
Contained within
The joy we feign
And all escape attempts
In vain
Except an early
Ego grave

Worn transmissions will slip if you flush the old fluid out. This is because the old fluid contains bits and pieces of the memorable clutch, which increases the friction capacity of the fluid. With a worn clutch, more energy is transferred between engine and transmission. Over time, this increased viscosity and energy will increase the pressure in the veins of the machine, the clutch fragments sanding down the walls, and eventually, a seal will blow out, and the life fluid will spray everywhere until the machine grinds to a deathly halt. The only way to fix this is to completely rebuild the transmission one piece at a time, and put new fluid in. Cost and time wise, it’s better to just try another transmission. But people are more than a transmission. Sometimes, we get too emotionally involved, and we dig a hole to the center of the earth. A transmission cannot repair itself; it needs the help of a mindful mechanic.

When it rains,
hide me by
your arms.

When it's sunny,
take me in a picnic
With your eyes.

When it's windy,
let's talk
about love.

But
in a stormy day,
hold me hard
and ..
Can you sing for me?

you made me feel immortal
and in return
i broke your heart
perhaps it is not that simple
but isnt it?

the heart of a lion
resides in my chest.
the heart of a lamb,
within yours.
ironically,
they are identical.

Whither, midst falling dew,
While glow the heavens with the last steps of day,
Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue
    Thy solitary way?

    Vainly the fowler's eye
Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong,
As, darkly seen against the crimson sky,
    Thy figure floats along.

    Seek'st thou the plashy brink
Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide,
Or where the rocking billows rise and sink
    On the chafed ocean-side?

    There is a Power whose care
Teaches thy way along that pathless coast--
The desert and illimitable air--
    Lone wandering, but not lost.

    All day thy wings have fanned,
At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere,
Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land,
    Though the dark night is near.

    And soon that toil shall end;
Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest,
And scream among thy fellows; reeds shall bend,
    Soon, o'er thy sheltered nest.

    Thou 'rt gone, the abyss of heaven
Hath swallowed up thy form; yet, on my heart
Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given,
    And shall not soon depart.

    He who, from zone to zone,
Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight,
In the long way that I must tread alone,
    Will lead my steps aright.

....
Absence came and hid the cracks.  
Wasn't she suppose to make the heart long?
she said fonder, bolder, tighter, closer...
She lied. She formed habits designed to hide.