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Ive had that day Again Dear Diary.
You know the one you have when you get all excited?
Your hopes build up and You start getting Hope.
The one where you feel like throwing on your Coat
And running outside in the cold Snow.
The day I might tell him
My true feelings now
And if It doesnt work out
I might as well drown
He is my world
Hes my Bestfriend
The one that I can Depend on
This is the day I tell him the truth.
The Day Ill tell Him With all my Might.
I love you Bestfriend. But lets take Flight
I love you Baby  .  But lets take height.
It
is time to let go
of juvenile fantasies
about fairytale first love
and what’s ‘meant to be.’
(I accept that).

Yet,
the mind is plagued by
its own resilience
in the aftermath of
heartbreak's
devastation.
(Why must we
hurt ourselves with memories
so sweet?)

Hard
as you may try,
you won’t ever forget
the first person
you let look straight into your soul,
the first person whose eyes interlocked with yours
such that he didn’t even need to tell you
he loved you -
you just knew, and he knew you felt the same
(but you both said it anyway).  
You’d never felt so alive.

And
in that moment
(that once in a lifetime moment
when you let your every vulnerability lie
bare on the surface of your skin and
let yourself feel),
in that moment
you’ve set yourself up
to take the strongest dosage of disappointment and pain
that a person can
physically, mentally, and emotionally
endure.  

The
‘growing up’ part about first love isn’t falling into it
(that’s natural);
it’s having the strength
to pull yourself up off your knees
and stand strong, stable, and alone
when love’s hourglass has left you
feeling empty.

Time
will heal the wound
(at the dictate of its sovereign hands - not yours);
you’ll just always carry the scar
on your heart
to remind you of that first time you faced love—
blind and naïve,
without the slightest defense,
and quite frankly,
*not giving a ****.
I                          think
of      these    little      children
these    weeping    angels    their
lives    stolen      from    this
earth      by a
madman's
bullets and when I think of the
Twenty I think of their families but mostly their
words I just want Christmas I just want to have Christmas
And then I think of their homes each of twenty trees
Sheltering gifts with no owners, sheltering them as if
To protect the memory of the innocents, lonely presents
Can now only shine and glimmer with all their gaudy
Holiday glory but no longer a jolly happy shine now it's
More a glaring harsh shimmer and shine sad, and cheap
Compared to the lives of the little ones these presents may
Be repurposed regifted, or set aside but their original and
True owners shall nevermore know the joy they can bring
I've liked you for awhile.
I just never admitted it.
     Why?
Because I was in a relationship that didn't seem broken.
Why rock a boat that's already floating.
Little did I know,
     It was sinking.

I admitt it,
     I wollowed for a little.
Honestly it was because I was mad at myself.
If my relationship failed once without my notice...
It could happen again;
     I could get hurt in the end.
Whoever said "It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all"...
     has never been dumped.

I took a chance,
Made my feelings known.
I've never been more happy
Than when you said the same back to me.

We've hit rough waters early in this relationship of ours.
I think it makes us stronger.
When we make it through all these troubles...
     that's going to be a wonderful time.
I can say how I feel about you then,
Without backlash equalling hell freezing over.

I say it now and hopfully soon aloud.
I truly love you and all that comes with.
My feelings have not changed
Not from the start and will remain the same til the end.
I just hope I can say all to you soon.
It's killing me to be quiet about the feelings of my heart.
mothers and fathers, without their child.
siblings, without their brothers and sisters.
the young and the innocent, killed in an act of anger and hatred
by a man who didn't even know their first name.
26 families with presents under a tree, never to be opened.
futures and potential, never to be fulfilled.
promises, regrets, last-words and mistakes.
these are the things that 26 families will be remembering this holiday season.
A time for joy and celebration, only a reminder
of the deepening hole in their hearts.
praying for all those effected by the Newtown massacre.. my heart goes out to you and your families. I can't imagine not having my little sister come home from school one day.. it's heartbreaking. rest in peace
 Dec 2012 christi-anne
FM
From under her lids
do the tears flow,
into a sea that surrounds her.
it does not touch her
but yet breaks her with it's pungent darkness
and eerie story behind each drop
and into a  sadness yet not spoken.

— The End —