(Giverny, 11.4.12)The Adagio of Elgars Cello Concerto in E minorusually helps:Something about the soar andthe swell almost unbearable but the falls dont matter becauseyour heart is one beat ahead of&...
struggling to walk a littlebecause youve found thatunderneath the layers of jumpersand coats and scarveswinter bones are brittleand removing those layers issomething of a risky businessbecause the ne...
with my eyes resting on the ever evasive pointsomewhere in the middle distanceI could watch it for hoursover and overthe shirt sleeves of your smilefalling over the arms of everything I have leftthe ...
A survival-case of sorts. I need to tidy it up a little.
In the Bleak Midwinter is my favourite Christmas carol. Not that there is anything so very bleak about this midwinter. Indeed, outside it is almost disconcertingly warm. Never mind. I spent this morn...
Picture me, if you will, as I am now. Its a pitiful little picture. Sat on my bed listening to this. Not even crying. Just sat cross-legged and staring into the darkness ahead. Its dark because Henry...
night ghost. MHJ. xviiRight now, and by that I mean right-now-this-very-second-now , I am sat up in bed, wearing the longest of white night-gowns, and the woolliest of woolly socks (forcing myself to ...
Im - I cant - I just - Im sorry. Ive reached a new kind of low.
If this was a detective novel, I would be the shifty maid at the manor house where the body was found hanging out of a third floor window with a crisp white handkerchief clutched in its lifeless hand...
Im holding up the fort because I am a sailor, not a sinking ship.Nonetheless, Im burning my fingertips on the charred remains of what could have been.Ill never forget, but its lest we remember on thi...
At Last, Etta JamesEnd of the World, Skeeter DavisIll Be Seeing You, Billie HolidayLa Vie en Rose, Edith PiafMisty, Billie HolidayRevoir Paris, Charles TrenetStay With Me, Lorraine EllisonStormy Weat...
When you tell them its your obituary youre writing,Not your autobiography,They watch you suspiciously and wonderIf that rabbit hutch youre buildingIsnt, in fact, a coffin.Its so damn hard to give upW...
These next few weeks will mark my demise. I hope you can bear with me.
Despite the tangle of limbsour party was less than tight-knit.Somewhere along the linewed dropped a stitch, and one by oneunravelled.Its possible the monotony had become too much,I had even forgotten...
I spend most of my waking moments speculating what might happen. I guess you could call that sad, but thats just the way it is. Its what keeps me going. The promise of tomorrow. Then again, its also ...
To whom it may concern,Your face reads a little like an elegy,composed of lines long lost to seam foambits of broken glassand dust.This year I chose snowdrops to lay at the foot of the tree(youll kno...
I imagine him often; the day after she died. The entrance hall is empty, as it is after closing time. The vast windows in the great hall are dark, and the room is drowned in shadows. There is a thin ...
Am dancing solitary waltzes in my bedroom (reaching; reaching)Wish you could join me.
I wish you could pour words into people, and that theyd just understand - just like that. Id pour whole books into people. The words would sink into their bones. All those words I can never say.I mis...
(revelations; I never want to forget)dancing in prisms, one two three one two three, writing about it, silly thoughts about melancholia and inadequacy, blood rushing in my ears, pulse pounding in my ...
I got lost (I fell)*
October enveloped me so as I couldnt breathe, and I though November would never come. And come it did, but bringing with it not the icy relief I so wanted, instead bringing that which I fear the most...
"All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream." Edgar AllanPoe.Happy Halloween Pumpkins ♥
She had been taking cloud steps, letting her feet fall through into dusty nothingness.Then someone taught her how to listen to Mozart, to wear pearls and red lipstick.Theres something to be said for ...
(undoubtedly the best birthday present of all time ever)I think...I think Ive forgotten how to write. Been relying to much on others words. Maybe its autumn, maybe its E. always eating away at my tho...
As the light house turned, it cast its ethereal light in searching beams across the night sky. Her mind turned with it too, tossing thoughts about it like the waves that weathered the cliff face. She...
I always wanted to dance with a boy. Always, always, always. I imagined it would feel safe. Like hot chocolate and Harry Potter. It would feel like putting stars in jars, and talking to K. By the way...
an illustration from Moominvalley in November by Tove JanssonSomeday Ill build a castle.Walls lined with dusty volumes, books that were never written.Only the sound of a typewriter tap-tapping away, ...
Sometimes strange things happen. Sad things too. And sometimes strange yet sad things happen. I wish that I could tell you why, could explain all the mysteries, but I can’t. Maybe someday. "I lik...
When you fall down, down into the depths of what you are so sure is utter despair; you can always crawl out again. They say it’s possible to move on, but what does that mean? Trains and boats can’t m...
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