We created a beautiful work of art.

It shined and glimmered,
glittered and sparkled.
It was magnificent.

It sat on a pedestal,
waiting for the day we hung it up,
safe from  the clumsy hands of others,
out of the way of danger and destruction.

And then I bumped it.
It was all accidental, I didn't know,
just what I'd done.

It wasn't even in slow motion.
There wasn't that moment of hope,
when you think that you can catch it.
It just smashed.

Pieces were everywhere.
Tiny glass pieces littered the floor.
I wept and you angered.
You never forgave me.

I tried to pick the pieces up.
They cut my fingers,
no longer the picture of beauty,
but of harsh reality.

I put our piece of art back together,
as best I could.
What did you do?
You threw it back to the ground.
Again I worked to fix it.

Over and over, I presented you with
what I thought we were, what we could be still.
Over and over, you threw it to the floor.
I kept telling myself that the cuts and the pain
would be worth it. Don't give up.

I've learned that, no matter how hard I try,
I can't fix it.
Not on my own.
I need your help. Won't you help me?
Don't you remember what we were?
Do you remember that beautiful
shining
glimmering
faceted piece of art that we made?

No?
Well, I'll keep trying.
Let me know when you want to
lend me a pair of gloves or,
even help me pick up some pieces.

Welcome to Wonderland,
A place to feed your head.
Welcome to Wonderland,
Where you can only go in bed.
Welcome to Wonderland,
Where creativity abounds.
Welcome to Wonderland,
A place where your feet won't touch the ground.
Welcome to Wonderland,
A place to free your mind.
Welcome to Wonderland,
Where when you search, you find.
Welcome to Wonderland,
A place to feed your head.
Welcome to Wonderland,
Where you can only go when you're dead.

The fog rolling in
Thanks to the little yellow pills
An insomniacs coffee
To help dreams begin

I dream of wonderous things
Some not so good
You take what you get
And you're happy for it

Now dreams are quite near now
So I must say goodnight
I'll write in the morning
When the sun starts to rise.

When the thought of an absence
tears at the spirit
leaving a vacuum in its place
Perhaps it shall be called love

When a life would freely
be given for another
without thought or hesitation
Perhaps it shall be called love

When the happiness of another
means more than ones own
Perhaps it shall be called love

When walking away is the only option
to allow for that happiness
Perhaps it too, shall be called love

Have one bite.
No, maybe two or three
and let food tonight
be your only company.

you have no right
to show her my feelings
and my life,
unless you belong here,
just please stop looking
to stir up trouble.
my thoughts and my
actions are mine
and this sites only

stop starting ****,
im ******* sick of it.
i am happy,
and so is she.
so why the **** would you
want to ruin that?

she walked in and saw me
holding your hips
and playing with the
fabric in between my fingers.
she didn't say anything
but you could tell that she now knew
that we were a real couple.
normally, she'd make some kind of
reference or comment,
"Rachel! Stop touching her, ya nasty!"
and my hand would fall away quickly.
but, i think she understands now.

we cant be together in public.
i am a very touchy person,
and a very lovable one as well.
finally i am happy and i think
she may see that in me.
maybe that is why she hasn't said anything.

so, TF, thank you so much.
you see all, but you know that
this needs to stay secret.

after all, i am sure you do not
want what happened to you,
to happen to me.