A heart can only break so many times before it numbs itself to pain, joy, love, sorrow. then all it can do is beat — until it doesn't.
I wasn't even trying, wasn’t even thinking about it. So far out of the wild blue I almost didn’t recognize It. Serendipitous, yet quick and sly — like a London pickpocket. That sweet kind of suddenness is the best part of falling in love again.
It's Open Link Night at the dVerse Poets Pub! Your lips move In sync with your hands, giving a voice to the words that live in your heart. You write them on the air (in permanent, invisible ink) and my heart can hear ~ So clearly ~ What my ears cannot.
You’re the last chapter In my tattered Book of Love. It's time to shelve it. dog-eared pages torn clichés fade to sepia like yesterday’s dreams and you flicked what’s left of my broken heart off my sleeve into the dirt. Thought I’d saved the best for last; you proved me wrong for [...]
letting go of you is as unimaginable as never having known you at all.