"...and the truth of it all
was that I'd never really let go.  
I'd just distracted myself from the inevitable.
You know, prolonged fate?
and for what it's worth, darling,
I still love you.
...There. That's the actual reality. 
It's out and I can't take it back.  
Now you know.
I still love you."

She’s so dainty,
with her sparkling, springtime smile.
I wish to be her.
I envy her whimsical dance
and how she prances through sunlight.
She would throw her hands up to
the lavender laced skies and twirl.
I once asked her how she remained so pure.
She replied with a pretty song.
Her voice was silver and crystal.
In that melody, I realized I would never be her.
I had to be me.
She was peaches and sunlight and sparkles.
I was the earth, the night, the moon.
I made an attempt.
I sang in the meadows and weeped beneath the trees
and for a day, just a day,
I was something of a fairy.
And as for the present me,
I want to remain this way forever.,
to remain happy as she is.
And I shall try.
But, it is late, however on my dark little corner of this foggy earth,
so I think I’ll blow out this fire,
crawl under the ground
and drift to another world,
until sunshine sings again tomorrow.

Love.

Love is like wetting yourself,

unexpected and warm.

It’s out in the open

and everyone knows

You might be embarrassed

at how clearly it shows.

But in the end,

when all’s said and done,

you aren’t afraid anymore.

You show the world what you’ve done.

Who wants to come over?
We can paint our nails with pastel colors
and experiment with our hair.
We can plan trips to places we’ll never go
and then bake brownies.
We can tell stories we’ve both already memorized by heart
and act like they’re new ones.  
We can laugh at nothing
and comment on how soft my old blanket is.  
We can go through my closet
and create **** outfits
and wear them out because we’re both a little too self conscious to wear them to school.  
We can get pretty for each other
and go through a random box of stuff in my parents closet.
We can plan an elegant dinner just for us
and dress up like fairies.
We can make jewelry with the little plastic beads I still have from when I was a kid.  
We can be cliche and stupid.
We can be happy.
Maybe another day.