(no subject)

I can watch exactly five minutes of Gone With the Wind before screaming madly at the television. Go me, my tolerance has increased.

I feel hollow, my insides scooped out to leave the shell of my skin, and I wonder where I went. Sometimes I feel like a ghost.

---

On the other hand, whoever it was that gave me two more months of lj paid time and/or extra icons: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Memories-- A Poem

It's late tonight--
the streets are silent roads of muted gray,
and my head and heart are filled to the brim with the past.

It's strange,
how the memories return from their cobwebbed corners,
how laughter is pressed into the creases of old photographs,
how trust is lined in letters with faded ink.

There is so much here,
lost in this quiet...
and I find myself
a f r a i d
to break the hush.

Tomorrow, I will sleep late (again)
and I will lose the sense of what I was
to return to the shell of what I am.

(But when I close my eyes,
yesterday is there,
bleeding off the edges of the page.

It feels like coming home.)

Empty-- A Poem

I want to write about emptiness;
like the moment when you hold your breath
and feel your heart tremble like the wings of a caged bird,
beating an echo of nothing inside.
like the catch in your throat--
like the angry burning of tears in your eyes.

(But I remember t o u c h,
and your fingerprints
are still smeared on the surface of my soul.

In the end, I don't suppose any of this matters.
I never knew any better;
you never knew anything more.)

stolen from dreambastion

If there is at least one person in your life who you consider a close friend, and who you would not have met without being part of an online fandom, post this sentence in your journal.