Not In So Many WordsMaybe I should just give up,Just give in and fade away,I tried my best to no avail,You'd never feel the same, anyway.It's not that I'm in love with you,Not in so many words-Or even in so few.I love you because I am capable,Of loving unconditionally.Be it friendship,Camaraderie,Any partnership or sorts;It's love,Pure and simple.But not in so many words.
Not An AppologyI'm not sorry,That I value you so much;So much more than you value me.And this isn't an appology,For the fact that I rely on you;More than anyone else, ever.I'm not sorry,For missing you,Every day that you're not here.And this isn't an appology,For needing you to be there,Because I needed you to care.I'm not sorry,That I do need you;So much more than you know.And I'm not appologising,For knowing that I need you,more than you need me.Because you've never let me down.Not even once.
Moss"I've run out of beautiful words," I say to you."Mitten," you reply.Yes, we'll always have mitten.And galoshes.But that's not beautiful.FelicitousLagoonRipple.That is a beautiful word.Do you see?This is why you inspire me;You have so many beautiful words.
Butterfly RainI'm grateful for the romance novels,That litter the floor of my room,A flurry of crumpled notes,Passed from heavy minds laden with thoughts,Of only them,And fingers as light as feathers in air,With all the sparkle of several hundred raindrops,Which fall from the skies and rest on my window,Where I draw pictures,And try to tell my own future.I don't think I ever mentioned,I'm thankful for the butterfly kisses,You placed without hesitation,On my forehead, my neck, my shoulders,My fingers and the palms of my hands.Indeed it must also have been said,Once or more,How I am forever indebted,To the music, which stops my thoughts,Or all emotions,That run wild with my mind,In body and spirit,As tornadoes that destroy and devastate,The peace that sits before these unseeing eyes.And for all the feeling that you took,When you left,And how the sound of your laughter,Will never touch these ears again,I'm grateful for your place,Thought it may have left scars,Unhealing an
Not The WayAnother nail in the coffin,My coffin.Another day I'm prepared to sit tight for.Another reason why I'm scared,So scared... I'm petrfied,Afraid to fall in love.Not the way I was prepared to.Another 'someone',Someone who needs someone,Someone who needs me."Never lose that desire to help."As long as someone needs me,I never will.Not the way you were prepared to.I've hurt you too much already,I don't want to cut you down.That I could be the little girl who planted the seeds,That helped you grow tall again...I can only wish.I can't matter without hurting you.Not the way I was prepared to.
November 23rdYou sit on the windowLike tears sit in my eyesThe calm before the stormOr maybe afterAre you whats left?Or whats beginning?Liquid stardust that settles on my heartHeavy or lightSeeping down through the cracksIn what is left of meOr what is left of my façadeThrough the dreams of youImpulsive boyImpetuous at bestHave you forgotten the date already?Or are you just forgetting me?November 23rdOr the day I disappeared from your mind
NaNo: Days 1 through 11 - Ch.1I folded the pillow around my head, groaning as I tried to dislodge the clock from the hanging contraption that I had set up above my bed, specifically for this purpose. It was supposed to make me get up properly when the alarm rang, because there was no way I could turn it off while it was dangling above my head. Instead, I had taken to flailing around in the mornings until one of my arms caught the clock at the right angle and either caused it to fall into bed with me, or turned the alarm off.I hadnt had much luck so far.Rory!Oh joy. The tell-tale sign that it was, indeed, time to get up, pack, take a shower and get out of my house for another term of boarding school.I sighed and rolled out from under my duvet, straight off the bed and into a mass of white fur and pointy claws. For a moment, I wasnt sure if Id rolled into another dimension, where, apparently, fluff-balls with dangerously sharp weapons lived. No such luck for me, however. Just my mum&