They are strangers now, separated by their worlds and walls.
There is no chemistry, no spark, nothing special.
They are simply strangers, sharing a couch.

One is autumn, one is spring;
one likes talking, and the other? Listening.

If walls could talk, they’d weave a tale so tragic.

In the beginning, he was sun, and she was moon.
At the ending, she was running, but he was leaving.

In the beginning, there are many things.
There is music, and laughter, and broken strings.
They have cooperation, and commitment, and promises.
Her mom gives them glasses, his mom gives them dishes.
She has her charcoals, he has his guitar.

At the ending, close to the ending-
There is his guitar, her laughter, they’ve broken things.
And that is all that is left.

Promises and glasses, dishes and hearts.
A year of trying and losing is written on the walls;
the wallpaper- peeling, the curtains- ripping.

He clears his throat, she stills- hoping.
“I’m sorry,” she hears, and it’s okay.
“I’m sorry,” she hears, “that it’s ended this way.”

I’m sorry, she hears. I’m sorry, that it’s ended this way.
I’m sorry, she hears. That it’s ended this way.

“It’s ended this way?”
“I’m ending it this way.”

I was comfortable.
Perfectly content, in my own little bubble - held up so high in your hands. I was warm and protected.
I was safe.
You looked in your hands and watched me dance and sing, you watched me laugh and play and enjoy life, surrounded by the glass wall of the bubble.
But I was losing oxygen. I couldn't breathe. I was suffocating more and more, I was trying to get out...
You began to play.
Tossing the glass bubble up and down and from hand to hand - disrupting the peace. It made my stomach upset, like I was on this crazy roller coaster that didn't have an emergency stop button. And the butterflies in my tummy are going frantic and coming up my throat and it hurts.
I was scared.
Afraid of your anger - it came so quickly. Your thunder shook me from the inside out.
I was a little girl.  
Hiding under the covers, shivering, afraid of the storm. Yes, you cared for me you cared tremendously for me, but you weren’t careful. You let me go. You pulled my out of my safe bubble, and I helplessly watched it fall and heard it shatter upon the floor. I was enclosed in your first and you let me slip through your strong grip.
I wasn’t ready.
You let me fall when I wasn’t ready to jump. And as I began to fall and fall fast, I desperately reached for something to hold – anything to grab on to but
I wasn’t strong enough.
And at times you reached back down for me and I held on tight. You hung me from your gentle fingertips, dangling me from above the broken glass.
I was slipping away.
You were lazy, bored, too tired of holding me up and as you let your gentle hand drop, I started falling again. Again and again and again. It all happened so fast and unexpected. I kept falling and
I was falling too fast.
I couldn’t slow down. I just kept falling. Falling until
I hit the ground.
And boy, did I hit it hard. Landing upon the broken glass that fell before me.
I was numb.
I couldn’t feel anything anymore. You let me fall when I wasn’t ready, you threw me back into the world alone – I just laid there in still silence in the pieces of the mess we made.
I was lost.
Cold, vulnerable, confused. I didn’t know where to go or what to do. I closed my eyes and isolated myself in the unconsciousness of sleep – of dreams.
I stopped falling.
But life didn’t stop. It flew right past me. People walked by, people stared. People asked, people tried to reach but
I was running.
I  lived in my world of fantasy, of dreams and wishes, of lollipops and daisies and cute puppies that frolicked.
I woke up.
I slowly lifted my bruised and broken body from the cold ground, the air still moist from my tears, but I didn’t cry. I couldn’t. I surrounded myself with the people close to me. I moved through each day with them, I made sure to never be alone.
I hid.
I was hiding from the silence. I was running away from the silence in fear. Fear of being alone because that’s when it catches up to you and the pain finds you and latches on to every inch of your skin and ***** the life out of you.
I was running in circles.
Making myself dizzy and worn out but it would never stop chasing me. The pain, the hurt, the truth never stops following you until you face it.
So I did. I looked straight into the eye of fear.
And I began to heal.
The process was slow but it progressed and gave me my strength back. My strength came up through the surface of my cold and broken body. The open wound was sewn together but the scares are still there. The barrier you once broke down was built back up again, this time stronger.
And then you came back, reaching for me.
I couldn’t.
I couldn’t look at this helpless young creature that hurt me like this and turn my back on them.
I ran back.
I surrendered to you, I helplessly allow you to push me in circles and shove me to the ground. You continued to push me so low that I couldn’t feel anything again.
I was numb again.
Yet I ran back to what I had known for months.
I was out of breath
and I fell back into the place I found comfort and I was back standing in the pile of broken glass on the floor.
I fell to my knees –
I sat there in the midst of the mess and I frantically tried to clean it up but there was too much, I needed help. I looked to my left, my right, and all around me. I looked for the one who was supposed to always be by my side, who was supposed to help.
I found myself alone -
trying to put back together the pieces and fix what I didn’t break. I looked back down at the mess I was sitting in, and I saw my ****** arms and ****** hands and ****** fingertips. It was tearing me apart, cutting me deep.
I was hurting
myself trying to put it all back together – hurting myself more than I was fixing it. This isn’t my mess to clean – I can no longer hurt myself trying to fix what I didn’t break. I left the broken mess the way I found it, maybe even worse.
I didn’t give up.
I simply turned my back on what I learned I couldn’t help. I forced myself back to my feet and started to move forward.
I dragged myself.
I see the edge in the distance and I want to get there and you won’t let me. I’m trying to run, trying to escape but you won’t let me get away. But it’s not because you care, it’s not because you love me – you won’t let me go because you’re selfish. You want my comfort; you want me all to yourself that even
I can’t have me.
You want the faith of me never leaving. Well – I gave you my word, my promise.
You chewed it up and spit it back out at me.
But you want control. You’re trying to hold me in your tight grip and I’m starting to suffocate again.
I want out – I want to breathe again. You’re finally pushing me closer and closer to the edge and I’m about to fall off.
I’m scared again.
I’m scared to stand on the edge and look back at all that I’ve known for so long. I’m scared to jump – and leave behind what I once found safe. It’s frightening and I’m building up the strength.
I am ready.
I am ready to turn my back on all I’ve ever known.
I am ready to fall.
Fall into the unknown. I am ready for the butterflies to flutter all about in my tummy as I fall fast again. I am ready for the thrill of not knowing where I am going to land.
So push me.
I am standing here, on the edge looking down, waiting for one last push.

Summer is

bikes and rollerblades
and go-carts and skateboards,
kites and frisbees
and ***** and gloves,

rainbows and suncatchers
and white fluffy clouds,
blue skies and green fields
and sunshine and flowers,

bare feet and sandy toes
and waves on the shore,
tan lines and sunburns
and goofy tourists,

yellow and orange
and summer rain,
butterflies and gardens
and fresh vegetables,

smiles and funny faces
and silly conversations,
smirks and giggles
and big belly laughs,

playing outside until the streetlights come on
and picking flowers for the dinner table,
building sandcastles just to knock them down
and shelling so many peas your finger go numb,
staring at a sky so blue it hurts your eyes
and running barefoot through the cool grass
and laughing so hard you can't even breathe.

Summer is.

I watch people in the world
Throw away their lives lusting after things,
Never able to satisfy their desires,
Falling into deeper despair
And torturing themselves.
Even if they get what they want
How long will they be able to enjoy it?
For one heavenly pleasure
They suffer ten torments of hell,
Binding themselves more firmly to the grindstone.
Such people are like monkeys
Frantically grasping for the moon in the water
And then falling into a whirlpool.
How endlessly those caught up in the floating world suffer.
Despite myself, I fret over them all night
And cannot staunch my flow of tears.

In looking for that someone
To make my life just right,
Hope it won't be like Evangeline
Who will past me in the night,

One that will be just right for me
In size, weight, and height,
I've looked far and waited long
Could they have passed me in the night?

All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost;

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken,

The crownless again shall be king.

love is believable
in every moment of exhaustion
in every heartbroken home
in every dark spirit,
the meaning unfolds...

...in every night that sings
of tomorrow. in every suicide
i carry deep inside my head.
in every lonely smile
that plays across my lips.
love is believable i tell you,
in every scrap of history,
in every sheen of want.

what can be wrong
that some days i have a tough time
believing.
and in each chamber of my heart
i pray.