27. your life is taken by a wave.
the rescue workers found you:
an angel in the snow,
if snow were dirt, and debris.
is that really you, asleep on that withered blue tarp?
you never liked being woken up anyway.
27. i can’t seem to cry.
25. christmas day.
you run down the stairs in you pink and purple pjs,
the big red box beneath the tree your target.
you tear off the wrapping and
your brown eyes twinkle,
your rosy cheeks dimple,
“look thaththi — it’s exactly what i wanted!”
22. it’s almost christmas and
you had made me promise that we’d decorate today.
i come downstairs to find
plastic mistletoe on the doggy door. …
It’s been a long time. I’m sorry for letting it get to this point.
I know you’ve had a long day — a bad one at that too.
You feel alone. You feel afraid. Your flame has died. Your world’s gone dark.
The word ‘happiness’ seems to be one that people simply use to convince themselves that they can take on the universe in a fist fight. I think I know this feeling all too well, even though the severity of our burdens may differ. So I write this letter to you. I hope you understand.
I hope we can help each other out. …
Before I indulge into my analysis in the phenomenon, I would like to inform you, the reader, that I am not expert on love, nor have I experienced romance in its entirety. This is simply my view from what I’ve endured through falling in love and my belief in what love should entitle.
To start with, we must attempt to answer the universal question: What is love?
Is it called love when someone lies to you to protect your feelings?
Is it called love when you’d let someone win a game rather than letting them wallow in the depths of loss? …