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Saturday, December 2, 2006


Subtle Sword






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There is no sense in crying over that which will not and cannot change. Even if it hurts so much that you'd give anything for it to change - to metamorphasize - and evolve from the wastes.

It never will.
Kill your dreams.
Well, I won't if you won't.
I will if you will...

And as it began, it came to end, ever swiftly.

Another goodnight, emotions silently stolen in the darkness on the other end of the line. Another goodbye, devoid of all life and soul - and yet, the corpse still stnads, wearing it's heart on it's sleeve, and bearing the bruises and scars.

Another hollow "I love you."

And because I love you, I deal...
And because of your exhaustion and your memory lapse...
But darling, I'm so understanding and so set to please you that it's just something that I've grown to accept and expect.
That is, whether I like it or not.

But I love you. I miss you. I cannot be without you.

So as you breathe, gently into the night's (your lover's) arms, I won't. I will take this pen as the subtle sword my mind fashions it to be, and I shall bleed my heart - dry as the ink on the pages.

Understanding has fallen.

But I love you. I miss you. I cannot be without you.

What's so hard that you can't be understanding yourself?

What are you so afraid of?
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