You're not afraid of love,
You're afraid of heartbreak

You're afraid of being so high and then being brought so low...
Afraid of the idea that everything that goes up has to come back down, the nature of gravity doesnt allow otherwise...


But My Love,
In case you didn't already know,
Love defies nature...
                                          
                              - F.V.

Julia sways in the same Winter, losing an up hill battle of deep seated Calvinistic virtues and the excitation of *******.
@@@ Julia goes on weekend holiday with her parents in hopes of losing her virginity in some square of Savannah.
@@@ Julia packs a bible, hoping to burn it in a symbolic rite of passage.
@@@ Julia packs a doll, hoping to drop it from a rocky bluff, post de flowerization, a highly political and artistic statement.
@@@ Julia packs the lucky strike cigarettes she took from the family gardener years ago, saved for her first post coitus cigarette.
@@@ Julia fiddles with a razor in her parents washroom. Breaking a piece and tucking it in her fingernail, as she read once that prostitutes do.
&&& Julia plans to draw blood in her ******; the man or men severing herself from the responsibility of a ***** & she severing her skin as tribute to a new brokenness.
@@@ Julia fantasizes her flower's loss to be on a rich man's bed with one or two plainly handsome sons of a rich man.
@@@ Julia desires the experience to be ******, seething with heat and violence.
@@@ Julia prays for this chaos, to shed her modest and humble skin, to become a quiet ***** in this painful flash of light.
@@@

~~
In the Stars Fair
Sometimes it's falling
Lost in the dark

My love,
Mingles with millions of stars
Same but hundreds of thousands of light in the line

Who are given
What I have found
But all I have taken

Among thee who am I
Even where are you
Or maybe known to me as the North Star

Lost within everyone
Beyond the known path
Apart from the light

Footprints fade out in the same path
Still spots on the shadows
Even yet it's called the galaxy
~~
@ Musfiq us shaleheen

I'm taking my life. to the pawnshop on a dusty summer-fall morning
     Because at this point I'm not sure what to use it for anymore
               And they'll give me cash for trash
   Like a mountain of crushed cans in exchange for a dream money can buy in a clear plastic baggie

Dead to the world, nothing matters anymore,
trying to find the keys to unlock these doors;
to my mind, to my heart, to the missing parts-
Of this life that has been misplace,
not knowing what's written on my face,
Is it love that brings me back,
trying hard to get on track,
and find the courage to open up,
And let these wounds heal?

In gentle winds
birds sing until they break evil bones
but it just takes looking past the storms.
Despite snow, my bones rage and scald
inside


and your warmth is at bay

from here.

I might be a filthy old rat
At least i know what fun is
And these day's
Old Prune's forget to have fun.
Thats why their dead by forty.
Ill live to 100.