you hurt me more than any one i have ever let in.

if you cannot say it as loud in the afternoon as you do in the morning,
or as proudly in a room of many or few,
if you refuse to raise your voice to an audible level:
well, shoot, little man, why`d you ever say it at all?!

some days i want to be with you for ever days.
do you think about that some times, too?
i hope.

 the darkest night is nothing new.

you`re not trying any more.
you are not.
you`re not
you`re
not.

i`ve heard we have the same hand-writing.
well, i don`t care any more.
i mean, i used to.
i used to alot.
but our cursived, curly lines don`t mean as much as they did when
we
used
to
write
letters.

&how can you not
expect me, on a day like
this? come, curl up here.

"That the topless towers be burnt
And men recall that face,
Move most gently if move you must
In this lonely place.
She thinks, part woman, three parts a child,
That nobody looks; her feet
Practise a tinker shuffle
Picked up on the street."

-w.b.y.

&even though the nights were well below freezing, they still slept sockless in that mammoth four post bed, under piles of quilts and one down comforter.
&he told her how he fell in love, &so they shared secrets late into the night.

some times i like you so much that it makes my teeth hurt &fingers burn ( Read more... )