If I was ever presented
with the impossible chance

To accurately chronicle
every subtle nuance

Measured against
the number of elapsing days

No ink would be enough
No hand could keep the pace

I've heard a lot about heart break being at 3am, insomniac nights filled with silently sobbing into pillows and when sleep finally comes, it is only greeted with stabs of loneliness when the cold realization floods in that you are waking up alone.

But they forget to mention that it happens walking down the middle of the sidewalk at 2pm when you're supposed to meet a friend for coffee and you see a face that's a distorted version of his because your heart is so desperate for him that it starts to try to find him in strangers.

They don't tell you that it happens six months later when you're starting to feel good again and you accidentally hear that he's dating someone new and it sends you spiraling down into the crushing weight that he doesn't love you anymore and suddenly you're not eating again and the man who works at the liquor store makes a comment about your drinking habits.

No one talks about it happening when you start falling in love with someone else and you're sorting through your computer and stumble across the album of pictures of him that you haven't looked at since the breakup a year ago and you think you're strong enough to see his face and you realize how desperately you loved him but it still wasn't enough for him to stay.

People fail to say that it happens at your best moments when you are so full of life and love and joy that all that can radiate from your smile is the strength that conquered demons and you see all the beauty that is around you and you remember the person that you always wanted to share this moment with has decided he wants nothing to do with you anymore.

She's planting out her window box
Young shoots are showing through
She thinks about the Springtime
And the garden she once knew

There were primroses and daffodils
Sweet violets white and blue
She thinks about her husband
And when their love was new

Buds and blooms open up
They scent and colour Summer long
She thinks about those happy days
When they were young and strong

Sunset's falling sooner now
Petals drop, the show is done
She gathers up her Winter shawl
Prepares for what’s to come

Letters on pigeon
Or sent in a bottle
Love is nothing like the movies
You just give it away without
Knowing if it gets received or reciprocated or reviewed
And then nothing else because love doesn't expect anything in return
It's magical torture

A mouth can
hurt more than
         any blade...