unknotted the tangles
glued on wings
and sent it to you
Love me fondly.
No.
Love me with passion!
Why can’t love be like a song?
Why can’t life be like a musical?
I love you when you are away. You cannot hurt me. You cannot laugh at me. You cannot embarrass me. You are perfect when you are away.
Love will come:
swept off its feet
falling up to Heaven
hot pink lipstick kisses on its cheek
Give me music. Music that holds me close like a blanket. I don’t need words. I need to be held.
Find me a car
with mirrors painted black
and top down
letting rain pour in
I see you and I create a story. Come sit by me, and tell me your tales unless they be less heroic than mine.
Excellence is the current average. So, unless you are stressed to the point of suicide and have no time for the ones you love, you are screwed in this world. Or are you just happy?
I come in during the night and give you a kiss. A soft flutter of lingering angel wing on your forehead. I seal my love for you with this kiss. But as day breaks, the seal too breaks, and my heart breaks. Because I cannot show you how much I love you in the light. I cannot hold you close and cover your little face and hands with kisses. I cannot hug you or brush away your hair. Only after night sings you to sleep.
The worst feeling is not being needed.
The second worse feeling is trying so hard and not being good enough.
A good book is printed to be written in. Torn binder, dog-eared pages, broken spine, underlining, highlighting, and notes in the margin are all signs of a good book. It shows that the book is loved.
Some people get to the point were they are so tired from simply living day to day that having to think for themselves just becomes another thing on the To-Do-List.
Time is in too big of a hurry to care if it passes you by.
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| May 2008 I. Am. Simba. |
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