I Know Now She is phenomenal, in both posture and dress. She is serene in her acceptance of life and her own flaws. She is content and happy with a loving family and understanding friends. At least, she was
and then she met me. She felt touched by my words. She reached out for friendship. She wanted her art to grow. I told her that youth was her enemy. I told her I would help her, but my lessons were harsh. I told her she would not want my friendship soon. She
astounded me with her maturity. She asked questions both intelligent and wise. When her art had reached a level of her satisfaction, she turned her questions to me and my life. I answered, then turned them right back around on her. I kept everything safe and light, afraid to dig deeper in fear she would do the same. I was foolish. I could have scared her away. I should have done that before we became used to ea
AmazingSometimes I look into the mirror, and I imagine I'm an older me getting ready for a date with my fiance. I clean off my glasses with a clothe, returning them to my face so I can recheck my dyed-black hair and my three-piece suit. My blue eyes are sparkling, my short hair is perfectly parted, and I smirk at the thought that there is nothing more breath-taking at that moment than the size of my ego. Then I turn around at the sound of my love returning to the bedroom from our bathroom, and my breathe is quite literally taken away.She is wearing a blouse and skirt that accent all her best features, which is every one. Her hair is tinted blue in places and brushed back from her face, some of the blue strands falling to frame her eyes. I want to tell her how my heart skipped two beats just looking at her, but my lungs still refuse to work properly. She sees me staring and quirks her lips in a tentative smile. She's not really comfortable in skirts, and I know this, but before I can give her
One NoteSometimes I think it's over. "She's done, we're done, I'm done."I think I'll tell her she has a better life out thereand some day her mom will be less crazy, and somehow we'll both survive becauseit's not like true love is real.Then I get a note.A note that neither wants nor warrants a reply. Just an update on her lifebecause she needs to write to someone, and she knowsI understand.And I realize, as I read every note, that I was desperately waiting for it, for everysingleword.Then every scheme to hop in my car, zoom across two states, bundle her up and steal her away...seems like a good idea, all over again.Maybe her mom is right. Maybe I'm evil, and I'm just leading an innocent girlaway from her family and moral upbringing.Or maybe... forget maybe!I love her.And I know she feels the sameevery time I get justonenote.
A happy manI thought...I thought I would break-again-If I lost you-again-I would break completely.I would throw away my hopesand all my achievements.I would pick up all the numbing thingsto make the pain of breaking go away.I thought...and I waited...But the breaking never came.Is there pain? -of course there is pain-And I am still whole.I am much more whole than I ever wasbefore...before you...Before a young heart made meA happy man.
Worth ItI'm thinking that maybeI'll do some explainingBefore we get too deepbefore we start to breathe eachotherYou see I've been brokencut into, left openNo bandage could heal memy scars aren't the kind you coverSometimes I crysometimes I screamsometimes I liesometimes I'm meanBut I'm learningI'm not perfectI'm a personand I'm worth itI promise not to hurt youon purpose, and if I doI won't let it lingerkiss it and make it better babyAnd if I run awayjust reach out, hold my faceRemind me you love meyou'll find me dreaming of you babySometimes I crysometimes I screamsometimes I liesometimes I'm meanBut I'm learningI'm not perfectI'm a personand I'm worth itAnd I'll stay clean and I'll stay dry'cause no drug could get me higher than your eyesAnd I'll be bold and I'll be strong'cause I'll know I'll always have you to lean onNow I know itI'm not perfectI'm a personand I'm worth it
Just an Idea, 2This is my idea of life. Sorry for pulling you into it, friend. You can leave if you want, if you can figure out how. That's the way it works here. I've tried to leave, to escape. But after all I've done I find I'm not able to turn back. I have masked myself from the eternal fires that mankind lives in. Outcast by a choice that I relished in, refusing to turn away before I lost my will. But amidst the fear I find joy. I created this, I now exist in it. Or it exists in me. This is how I escaped from the tragedy of man known as life. Breaking the barriers which hold, success is granted for the recreation of that which was ruined. The life of idea. The idea of life. Just an idea.
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