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 :)


Dawn does not exist.
Not in this place –
A stony beach littered with broken shells;
With shattered, fragile dreams.

Warmth is illusion.
There’s nothing but a fierce hope to ward off the chill
And as the tide continues to rise with the moon’s growing fullness,
The strengthening wind whips the soul into freezing emptiness.

Mockery –
The tune to which the stars here dance.
Nothing but brilliant slivers of light against velvety blackness
Cruel and piercing,
They are the eyes
Which led me here in the first place

2002 June 28
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Dear dearest, these are your love songs: