fyn gula Smash! it was the sound of birth, like the breaking of someting sacred, a treasure he kept away in a box no one could see, a box kept hidden.

The day he left it out in the rain is the day he heard the crack and knew a truck had run over it.

He wasn't disappointed because it meant he had nothing left to signify who he was. he wanted to change, to become new. he wanted to be reborn.

It was a road he walked down, a river he swam in naked, a flower he picked with a fragrance that filled the room, a piece of fruit sweet to the taste, velvet cloth against the face.

It was everything he could see and it was as if he had never observed it before.

As if vision was now his treasure and the box he kept it in was his soul.
notme i had made wings out of paper and glued them to my fingers forgetting where wings are supposed to go and how they can fly when they're not being held down 030910
sabbie refreshing the page
could make the email come any faster.

23 as if it really matters
as if somebody cares
as if there's a place for somebody
who's never ever there
as if you are my confidant
as if i am your friend
as if our time together means anything
in the end
as if our strangeness was the thing
that bound us both together
as if the future would really have us both
as friends or so forever
as if i really matter
as if i really care
as if i really miss you when i
choose not to be there
as if it's all the truth
as if it's not a lie
as if it's just a stupid way
to ignore the question why
as if you mean to remember
all the things i never say
as if i'll listen to you
at the end of your long day
as if we're some how obligated
to support ourselves somehow
as if we're not supposed to
take care of our own right now
as if any one would notice
as if any soul would care
as if we'll really miss each other
if i'm here and you are there
what's it to you?
who go