fiddle dee

She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate stone i know i know... mercutio was talking about me

Tuesday, October 13, 2009


I worry I don’t feel as deeply as I should

Don’t rage as passionately as I used to

Hurt so deep, I think I will never come out

Blush so red and embarrass so easy,

I don’t feel, believe, relive, as hard anymore

Everything’s so flip, or an obscure regret at worst,

curiosity’s down to but an occasional tic

I fear my mind is calloused and my heart far from tenderized,

emotions are practiced, those alien - highly unlikely!- dumped casually into the recycle bin

So if I don’t rage, nor worry, believe nor feel … then why am I afraid...?


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