The beauty of the butterfly withers away in the first evening lights,
In the melancholic and languishing waltz of its hopelessness.
The sheer exhilaration of its colours disappears in the shadow of this night,
To keep only in memory, the fragrant shades of its heady loveliness,
And to be unable to bloom in this vast and dark nothingness of life.

Was it not true love dear?
Every time I saw you I saw love
Mornings were warm and evenings were cool
Your touch was my gold medal
I loved you and only you
Now feel it for me!
You have another man when I cry
I'm not crying for anything but yours love
I love you and I'll love you
Kindly feel it for me!

did you know
that heartbreak can actually **** you?
i don’t mean suicide,
even though that is true and terrible as well.
i mean that there is actual, physical pain from heartbreak.
it is a stress induced apparent heart attack, but it is not a heart attack.
i thank you for not breaking my heart.
you hurt me, yes,
past, present, and maybe even future pain
is expected to move in from your general direction.
i am preparing for that possibility.
i think about my grandmother though,
who was with my grandfather before the war, and after for a brief moment,
who married another man,
who raised two children with that man,
who divorced her husband for a mutual lack of being “in love”,
and who finally married my grandfather.
there was no lack of being “in love” for them,
but when he died,
she carried on.
she did not allow the absence of a loved one to pull her from this world.
both of my great grandmothers are still alive, decades after their husbands passed away.

the women of my line are made of steel.
we are pretty, we are delicate,
we are smart, we are clever with our words,
and we endure.  
we are strong.  we survive.

so i will rely on the strength of my mothers
and i will not let the pain i feel distract me from who i am
or what i want to do.
i will be strong like my grandmothers.
when i feel the heartbreak,
i will let it hurt, and i will move on.

the women of my line are made of steel.

so am i.

maybe i never had the right words.
maybe that is the true problem.
maybe it was that i could never say everything that you needed to hear.

let me tell you a story.

when i was eight, my family always got together on christmas to exchange gifts.
my family is bursting at the seams, with aunts and uncles and grandparents and
second cousins and my aunt’s stepmother’s adopted niece and
everyone crams into one house, around one tree.
we do a name draw at thanksgiving, and everyone buys one present to give to one person.
i wasn’t supposed to open my present until everyone was together,
but i did.
and i was so embarrassed, at eight years old, to have broken the rules,
even though no one cared at all.
it was a tea set.
small, perfect for an eight year old, with cups and spoons and plates and a dish for the sugar.
i never could look at that tea set without feeling guilt,
and when it finally broke, i was relieved.
it had been picked out for me by a cousin of mine, and i thought that it was beautiful,
but i broke the rules.
now, on christmas, even though we no longer get together with all of my family to give gifts,
i still make sure that i am in line,
that i am not breaking any rules at all.

on christmas this year, i tried to sleep in and avoid thinking of you,
because you were going to be talking with your family,
and sierra was going to be talking to isaac,
and i was so unbelievably jealous.
and i wanted to drive over to your house and demand to see you,
but that would be breaking the rules, and besides that,
it wasn’t my place.  
christmas is for family, after all. not for old friends who are young and foolish still.

that night, i went and saw the third hobbit movie,
and i cried and kept crying.
i picked one dwarf, the one played by aidan turner who is gorgeous and great,
and i asked that he live.
and then the elf girlfriend played by kate from lost was there and i just broke down.
because they were perfect and not supposed to work out,
and they wanted to break the rules but some rules you cannot break.
yes, i am foolish.
i know that.
yes, i cried over the pain of a fictional elf when she asked for the love to be taken away,
because it hurt too much to bear.

but if there is one thing that i have learned in all of life as a foolish person,
it is this:
you take what is unbearable,
and you bear it.

there are no other options.

even though this love i hold for you is painful and sometimes makes it hard to breathe,
i will bear it, and i will learn to accept heartbreak as a part of this life.

it is valentine’s day on saturday, and i want so badly to have someone to hold me,
because yes, it is a stupid holiday, but genuine affection is not,
and i miss that.
i’ve never had it but i miss it.
isn’t that strange?

but it is possible, apparently, and it does not stop hurting.
i wish to have this love taken from me, i wish to see you replaced in my heart,
but i will take what is unbearable,
and i will bear it.

Inhale

               Exhale


I watch you as you walk with your shoulders and your head held high
So much confidence you leave in your footsteps
the smile you give to the world and the 'Feeling' you leave with people in your absence
I hear the way you speak,
Your deep baritone with so wisdom in your voice like you've been living on the earth for 100 years instead of 18


You didn't think Id notice but when you were walking I saw the falter in your step,
The way your head kind of sunk low and you walked as if you had the weight of the world on your shoulders
Instead of confidence in your footsteps I saw the cigarettes in yours tracks leading to the abondoned shack where you scream your suffering to the world,
I remember hearing you speak to the people and they heard a smart man speaking but I heard a man who was confused and scared that he might not make it to see the next day,
You've been living on this cruel cruel world for 18 years but you wished that you haven't witnessed not even 1,
Your sad, your scared, your hopeless but your not alone.

Oh sweet sweet boy, how you thought you tricked the world.

palates and platelets
pallets and plates

mind and matter
brain and body

float me down the river
with the sun far from falling

---

desert fog
shiphorns blow in the distance

melting tundra
poke holes in the old maps

winds that blow between your toes
and stir undying shivers into quiet pines