My dears,

Walk talk, kick ass, learn to speak Arabic, love music and never forget that you come from a long line of truth seekers, lovers and warriors. -HST

My dears, it's been a while.
Time got in my way.

Different from posts previous, I want to ask you. Who ever you are.
It breaks my heart to see them now. Nothing I can do about it their unhappiness.
I want to help, I try to ask — it does nothing. Still there he is alone in the office looking back on a life of disappointment.
My eyes water with the thought, the one I hold so dear unhappy with everything he's created.

Thinking about it makes my heart stink.
I long for a thought. Someone to think of me the way I think of you.
Will you ever realize that it's always been me.
It hurts. My soul longs for a hug.
His smile makes me scream, his laugh makes me cry, it's all I've always wanted.

How can I make him understand, that I'm standing right there.
Longing for a heart to hold.
If you open your eyes, you'll see I'm right there.

With so much behind them now, she almost never says his name.
His words, her tears, the final phone call took place almost a year ago february.

She never understood but knew she was the only one. Convinced no other way, it's true.
With time in between, the sounds of the receiving click faded.
Through others, time went by. Through themselves they grew bigger.
He and she, the pair separately healed.


And now, separate still,
My dear,
There will always be a spot in my heart.

The branches seemed to crawl up forever.
Hidden in a collage of leaves were millions of thoughts lay to sleep.
There they were sent to spend the winter. Or, the years.

The child who wished for a pony, the teen for a lover, and one for the one who is no longer here.
Tided together we live our lives, touching the ones who fill our hearts, walking by those we don't know by name.

Have you ever thought about that day? That moment? Will I ever meet you? Will you ever find the one?
There they lie gathered together, until you call to them again.
Hidden in the fall, by a coat of orange leaves.

Seems like forever ago we saw each other.
Your heart on your hand, with love on your mind.
Her face hard to picture now. It's been a year, maybe two, maybe tomorrow marks a decade.

It's hard to circle the date in a red sharpie pen when you can't exactly remember the time that's been.
Who you became,

- or who we changed.

To her, to you, my dears, it's hard to recall.

Heartbreak Handbook

Can we hear them break?
The hearts of those who fell too hard.
The hands they held - the ones they loved. Or thought the did at least.

That one you just heard - She was just like the rest, she fell asleep to a soundtrack of his name.
For months at a time it played, until one night, the words skipped.
It missed a beat, slowed down, and then surely, it stopped.

The pain she felt, convinced she was the only one.


The songs that once were her lullabies are now the loop that sings another willing girl to sleep each night.