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I think I might have loved you - once - when your head was on my shoulder and you cried into the fabric of my shirt as we stood over that casket and I remember holding you as you cried and hiding my face in your hair as you clung to me


What else were we supposed to do?

Who else would understand and

I’ve seen your secret heart in its entirety it is beautiful it is small it is fragile and it is entirely perfect to me and

It is that heart

That I wanted nothing more than to protect.

So I tore it from a warm chest thinking to selfishly preserve it, to keep it

Perfect and beating, fluttering in my palm like bird’s wings like

The fire within it could never be quelled but

I squeezed too hard I wanted too much I asked for nothing and everything and you demanded so much without words, so many human things that

A crooked creature like me

Cannot yet hope to understand so I

Did the only thing I know how I

Buried my face in your hair as you cried into my shoulder as I cried into you because what else is there and I


My hand

A little more.

When I was small problems seemed so trivial, because they were
Just that.
They ended as abruptly as they began.
Even hardships : Disease, death, moving, longing,
Each were overcome with time and trial.
But scorn. Scorn and pity. Two emotions I shall never understand, and never be able to escape.
They follow me, stalking like hounds and waiting like hungry wolves. They circle teasingly close, begging for a morsel of flesh.
Sometimes I wonder if I am wrong to run and hide from them, rather than face them head on.
Through running, I live another day in fear and paranoia.
Through running, I protect the last shards of my broken soul and clutch them greedily to my chest.
Through running, I save what I can save and leave the rest of me to be devoured.
If I were to fight, I would lose.


When I was small and fancy free
I fancied no one’d bother me
The world was new and fresh, you see
Too nice to be poisoned by men.

For all I tried and failed to say
That naïveté slipped betimes away
And left my world empty and grey
And longing for final ends.

For every tear I never shed
For ev’ry lover never wed
For my empty heart now cold and dead
I cannot see again.

For a Friend on a Snowy Day

For a friend on a snowy day during a tough year at school. I regret not showing it to her then, but I was embarrassed. Maybe she will see it this year, and it will help in the here and now. Ah, well, better late than never?


I can see the light, sparkling

Through snowflakes and bare trees, reflecting

Into a cold, barren classroom.

Every head turns to look

The teacher laughs - and students

Can only frown.

Another day, another test, but we forget :

The papers are like the


It seems  there are thousands

Each a different assignment.

Cold, calculating -

And annoying.

But really,

It will soon be over, and done.
Snow melts,

Papers burn,
And life moves on.

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