A poem from the (broken) heart by fellow blogger cjarabia...

I want to write love letters to you but I won't.

Do you hear me? I fucking love you. I love you, I adore you, I admire you, I esteem you, I am fond of you, I'm amazed by you, I am in awe of you, I appreciate you, I don't understand you, you drive me crazy, I want to kiss you so bad I can't stand it. I love the sound of your voice and your goofy laugh. When I go to sleep I think of you. I love when you tell me what to do. I want to sleep with you. I love when you call me on my bullshit. I fucking love you and I'm not going to tell you.

You are kind and nice and even and smart and giving and full of wisdom. You tease me, and you listen to me talk and talk and talk about all of my bullshit. I'm so full of shit and you don't seem to mind, you may even enjoy it. How can that be? How can that fucking be?

I will never tell you.

I'll take it to the grave.
I'll put it in a box and bury it in the back yard.
I'll type it up and then tear it to pieces and throw it in the fire.
I'll cover it in paint and glitter.
I'll roll it up in plastic and toss it out to sea.
I'll put it in a book.

You'll never see it.

You'll never see it.

You'll never ever see it.

This is not about you. Now go away.


(Visit the author at http://cjarabia.journalspace.com/)