When I died last, and, Dear, I die
     As often as from thee I go,
     Though it be but an hour ago,
And Lovers’ hours be full eternity,
I can remember yet, that I
     Something did say, and something did bestow;
Though I be dead, which sent me, I should be
Mine own executor and legacy.

I heard me say, “Tell her anon,
     That myself, that is you, not I,
     Did **** me,” and when I felt me die,
I bid me send my heart, when I was gone,
But alas could there find none,
     When I had ripp’d me, and search’d where hearts should lie;
It ****’d me again, that I who still was true,
In life, in my last will should cozen you.

Yet I found something like a heart,
     But colors it, and corners had,
     It was not good, it was not bad,
It was intire to none, and few had part.
As good as could be made by art
     It seem’d, and therefore for our losses sad,
I meant to send this heart in stead of mine,
But oh, no man could hold it, for ’twas thine.

My bestest sisters , how I love them ,there are my intire life

we held our thumbs up to the moon
looked at stars during daylight

the planets that you fotographed
the passion that we shared

you used to write and i used to listen
i used to write, to hear you say how i was briliant

we were both teenagers
thinking rainbows could have mercy

thinking you and i
might work



we did work
as long as we kept believing it did

as long as we made up our own rainbow
and painted intire skies

years ago,
we build a time capsule together
and said: this is the defenition of pain
for today, and for eternity

and floated apart we kept protecting our dig side
however much i do not want see you again
no way no, you will not dig up that pain
i would rather die than let you feel it again

but tonight i dug it up
and you were not there to stop me
probaly living in Sweden with your new love
like, the seventh since me?
why would you care about me digging up an old box?

Do you remember Pandora?
our pain has allways been like it
i opened it this evening
and forsake intire worlds