I collect scars.
I show them to people rarely.
Sometimes I think of them fondly,
sometimes I think of them coldly.

I write a lot about the place where (we) met.
Where (we) fell in love.
Where (we) grew apart.

I guess in a way, my memories are scars.
I collect memories.
I share them with people rarely.
Sometimes I think of them fondly,
sometimes I think of them coldly.

Your mother told you kissing me must be like kissing an ashtray.
You told her you'd rather kiss this ashtray
than the sweetest strawberries.

Why did you say that?

Hopeless as I try
All I want is to help
******* my effort

D** on't look back
E ven when they call
N ever remember
I n doubt I stall
E nd the ember
D read the fire

A curse of the gamer,
Not  knowing the sun,
Also knowing trinary,
two zero one.

Very anti social,
Give us wide girth,
Lowly right now,
We'll inherit the earth!

I** 've searched all my life
L ooked far and wide
O over and under mountains
V erified by my tries
E ver lasting dedication
Y ou must feel the same
O our feelings were mutual
U nder this love I am tame

Everything about you is wonderful to me.
Everything.
I want to know everything about you,
I want to know what the kids called you in 4th grade on the playground
I want to know who your first boyfriend was and what your dad wanted to do when he broke your heart
I want to know who your favorite 80's synthopop band is
I want to know what you think of when you wake up at 4:26 in the morning with a stiff neck
I want to know what color you wish your softest skirt was
and I want to buy it for you.
I want to pick every single flower on earth and fill your arms with them.

I want to hear your voice when you're sick in bed
and I want to know what kind of tea to bring you
I want to know what movie you watch when you can't do it anymore
because that boy in your history class wouldn't stop calling you that word and ******* it you are not that word but this movie makes you feel better and it always has (it did in 4th grade when they called you that name on the playground)

I want to know which side of your face you prefer to have photographed
I want to know who you pray for
and if you think anybody is listening.

I want to know what your mother wanted to name you before your father convinced her otherwise because "Honey, do you really want our daughter to grow up being called that and have her know that we are responsible?"

I want to know if you like the feel of cold hardwood floor on your feet in the morning or the feel of carpet when you first take your rain boots and socks off after stomping puddles.

******* it, I want to know everything about you
so I can love every single one of those things with an intensity
the devout Christian envies.

Meanest
Bleakest
Blackest
Dryest
We are the meanest, bleakest race.
Hail from the blackest, dryest place.

What could be more perfect than rain?
What could be more beautiful?

It falls and brings life to wherever it falls.
It breathes life into this lifeless landscape
and allows it to breathe.

Rain is a gift from God
and I am sorry for those
who do not drop to their knees
and thank their god for rain.
Thank nature for rain,
thank the universe,
but you have to be thankful.

Rain refreshes,
and it soothes
and it calms
and I cannot think of anything
more perfect than the rain.

April showers bring May flowers
and that is beautiful.

She has a problem with people
she struggles to speak out in public
she doesn't feel confident

but she doesn't realize how confident she is
she's confident when she dances
she's confident when she makes jokes
she's confident in her knowledge
she's confident in her writing

I want her strength
I want the strength of her words
the strength of her beauty
and the strength of her movement

I want to be like her
I want her hair
I want her skin
I want her clothes

I want her soul

I know she doesn't feel beautiful
but she's a porcelain doll
her skin is perfect and white
and her hair is one of a mermaid's

She hides under her white feathers
so others won't see her
but there are those that see her shine
the way the glint comes of her wings

When she does come out of her cave
she lights up the space around her
she soars through the air and the world stops
her beauty is beyond me and I feel I'm the only one who knows

She is a swan