November 6, 2013


you may think

i don’t think of you…

any of you…

except maybe on

your birthday…

the day you blessed (or cursed)

the world with

your being…

but you’d be wrong.

we’re all too wrapped up

in our own lives… our

own worlds…

our own visions

of how things should be…

or how they happened.

maybe if you loved me

nearly as much

as i love you…

you’d try just as hard.

sometimes even our

own blood

isn’t written into

our destiny.

because sometimes…

we’re just too different…

and the shared pain

isn’t enough

to keep us





  1. This is beautifully expressed, Freya. I felt it in my gut.

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