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 :)


I am not
Some fallen autumn leaf
Or stray weed
That you can sweep
Or pull out
And then throw away into
You called me a FRIEND
You LOVED me once
Or was it all really in the past tense?

How could you have made me feel
So precious
And now so unwanted…
Like crumpled paper that you might as well just toss away
But not really.

4:30 am
October 26, 2003
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Dear dearest, these are your love songs: