This regret,
This division.
Love's exit wound.
A fragmented heart —
Good but now damaged,
Weary.
Buckled under the weight
Of sweet intention.
Perfect vows.
Empty exhalations
In crystal air.
Beautiful in their impotence.
Hurried
last
gasps.
Needles in skin.
Pricking tenderly,
A gentle torment.
Like lips on skin.

Not sure how it happened.
I was just walking (well crawling)
And SUDDENLY!
This tree got stuck in my hair. (on my back)

It is rather difficult to move now.
Actually I think I am stuck
It's a pretty big tree
And there is a slight possibility that it may still be in the ground.

I don't like this tree.
It *****.
Grr.
Rawr.
Growl.
Hiss.

Education is important
Even for a sloth
Except I learn different things
Like what can **** you
And what can poison you
And how to survive a wild, non-adhesified animal attack
And stuff
I think that is more important
Than Math or Science

I don't want to sound ugly but
                                              Remind me again
            Your opinion
Is supposed to mean something to me .. why?

So you think I am ugly, stupid, worthless, weird, fat, unpopular, annoying, and overdramatic?

Thanks for the input. Maybe you're right but all I know is, it doesn't bother me :)

You are still beautiful inside and out. <3

I wish you had heard the bird
Echo a hidden fairy tale
Then offer travels with an elephant to you.
Are we ready for the circus life?

Lie with me among the stars
And the rings of Saturn shall hold us together and keep us from falling
The dust that gathers on the precipice of your eyelashes
Is from all the collapsing galaxies out there
But we weren't one
May the light that emanates from the rivulets of fire shooting from the sun
Be enough to show us what heat really is
And how badly it can hurt

Dear J,
   I may be at a loss for words half the time, and the other half I might have too much to say, but I can almost always say this; I love you. I have felt fear and I have felt bravery and I have felt loss. I can look pictures of us and I can recall everything we did that day. I can listen to videos of you and I can tell what you felt. And I know that you didn't think I was paying attention, but I knew how you looked when you thought something was unfair. And I knew the look in your eyes when you saw the light just right in a sunset and you knew that nothing could ever be recreated quite like that. I felt the same way about you.
   Wherever you are, know that loving someone isn't a matter of feeling something or not feeling something. It's a matter of knowing what you're feeling and when you need to let go.
   I think that people know that letting go involves unfurling your fingers and watching something fall from a great height. It's the act of following that objects downward motion that gets to us. That once it meets the ground or whatever surface it is deemed to hit, it's gone. What was there is gone. And once you think about that you think of what could have been there. That one last touch, that one last feeling of bliss that comes with knowing that the moment you wake up the sun will be shining in rivulets through fingers that tangle in hair fresh off the pillow. It's sad to know that nothing like that will happen again.
   The sun won't shine the same way. Instead it may simply fall. It won't cascade, it won't flow over the edges of noses or smiling lips. It's the same way water may lose a stone from a riverbed and from there on after it doesn't run quite the same way. But another stone, another pebble will fall in place because replacement happens.
   I guess what I'm trying  to say, is that letting go is letting someone else take a spot. In order for something else to happen you have to let your joints move out of their grip and unfold from their hold on something that wasn't meant to be held by you anymore.
   Sometimes you have to let them land somewhere new.
I only hope that it's somewhere even more beautiful than before.
            Claire