These are but vain attempts to express, by one who wears her heart on her sleeve. Words, much like love, can be ever elusive... ever frustrating... like trying to paint a million stories on a single canvass. If you will read, please do not ask. Just feel. Or at least try to. The meaning is, whatever you have felt to be there, or the lack thereof :)

Monsieur De Lioncourt


You've loved Gretchen
You've loved Dora
Why don't you love me too?
Even if it's only for my blood;
For this throbbing mass I call 'heart'
Or just for my human fragility.

Come out and lead me
To follow the soundless echo of your footsteps,
Take me to Stillness
Or to wherever your soul,
in its immortal restlessness,
may beckon.

I'd rather be with you
Than be alone in this Savage Garden
With someone who
Doesn't want
And simply has no need
Of me.

…come out, come out, wherever you are….
(A Summons!)
28th March 2002
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