Wynfor

I knew a girl once who kept a jar filled with paper cranes by her bed, right beside a real mess of a book. The cranes came in all colors, made a rainbow if you glanced at them quickly. I asked her once why she had those cranes, and she told me this: "It is in honor of all the things I've lost interest in." I thought that was quite a funny thing to say, and I told her so. She only smiled sadly and pulled herself closer to me. Later that night she asked me if I was sure I wanted her around, like maybe I was being around her just to make her feel better. "No, that would be cruel. I'm here for us, because I want to be here." It wasn't a g

this is a private viewing, dear. this is only for you. "doesn't it all belong to me, though? otherwise you're a tease." well...yes. by proxy, i am yours, every bit of me, since you cannot catalogue and label me until i am dead. "haha- good. it only matters by title, so long as you mean it." of course, dear. now here, we'll start with something fun. my hands- here. they are yours to hold and kiss...although they are rough...they have gotten much use, working with chemicals, flipping pages of books. nails are bitten short while i study, i'm afraid. they sometimes turn blue, are often cold and are always moving. "oh my dear... i would ho

 jar your heart for me, he demands. take a scalpel, sever arteries, take out that which makes you love. put it in a jar filled with formaldehyde, and hand it over to me. give it to me so i may know you'll never love another. oh- no, you can't have my heart. come now, don't you trust me? you know i'll only love you, my dear. now here, i'll sew you back up. i know, it's a little rough, but it will do. i didn't even know how to sew before you came along. you've taught me so much, my love. oh, what's that? it's hard to breathe? it will pass, dear. i'll teach you a new way to breathe, that draws no blood. you will be fine. your lips have spoken

 my yakiri; this is only one of many pieces to start as such. only one of many to be written in your name, but the first i intend to share. i can only hope it culminates the grace and love i feel towards you. it is difficult to touch on what matters (and if you're reading carefully, you'll know how difficult it is to touch at all). some believe love letters should consist mostly of the recipient's beauty. i disagree. that is not to say i do not find your body perfect in appearance, that your eyes are so truthful and pure it reminds me of all that is good in the world. it is not to say i do not wish to worship your body in kind, or

 When I was eleven, a boy in my class told me that he was "madly in love with me". When I asked him to prove it, he pulled out a magic marker and wrote 'I love you' on the pocket of my jeans. Proudly, he told me that when the marker was gone, he would no longer love me. Of course, he thought permanent marker was really permanent. When I got home, mom noticed the marker and was furious. I was yelled at and threatened, but she never thought to try and scrub it out. That marker didn't fade for a few months, and by then I had moved away. He cried, pledged his undying love, told me he would write me letters. He never wrote a single one, and

 I am making myself a promise, right now. Aim9ee, you will not fall in love with someone stupid, and you will never give up yourself for anyone else. ... But really anyone who falls in love with me must be stupid, and I will probably do anything to make them happy. ... So, alright, let's try again. Ahme, you will not fall in love with someone bad for you, and you will not give up your own happiness. ... Honestly, I've always been a masochist, and truly I want to be hurt. Besides, I always accomplish most when I'm unhappy. ... One more shot, I suppose. Ehmea, you will not fall in love with someone who does not love

Her therapist knows just about everything. He knows every major event in her life, and he understands why she is as depressed as she is. He can truly sympathize with her and what she has gone through. But he cannot help her. To help her, she needs to feel, emotionally. Aimee does not let herself do that anymore. She arrives late to her tuesday appointment, and is fussing with a bandage around her left index finger as she steps into the therapist's office. "I'm sorry." She offers automatically, meeting his eyes for a fraction of a second. "I got held back a bit at work." A lie. She has not been to work today. Her therapist nods, sm

She has been improving recently, her fiancee notes. She was not healthy, but she was so much healthier than she had been. Recently out of rehab, her drinking had stopped entirely, and she was no longer popping pills as she once had. He was happy for her. But something was changing - just a little bit - and he wasn't sure what. On October 19th, the couple is out shopping together. Aimee has her cane in hand, leaning heavily on it as she follows her lover around, paying little attention to her surroundings. Her fiancee, Marcus, is paying even less attention. He does not realize his soon-to-be wife is no longer by his side until she calls

some days my dogs will have a little more energy and they will be a little rougher than i can handle. i am too old to keep up with them, and they have learned to cope with that. but some days like today they have forgotten that i cannot run with them or even take them on walks. they will jump and try to play but instead leave me covered in welts. that opens the memories. when i was twelve my mother was dead and my father was an alcoholic, and things were just getting "bad". mom had killed herself two years previously, still mourning the death of my younger brother - the brother whose death she was always quick to blame on me. my dad, sh

most days are easy enough for me, if only because i have gotten so good at ignoring everything, namely my emotions and problems. i'm not saying i have problems, although some people will say that i do. i decided long ago that i am probably fine and that if there is something wrong with me, it is not for me to decide. there's a reason for that. people tell me it is denial, but no, i have a reason. if nothing else i am a highly logical person. if i am left to my own devices and i let myself think of what all has happened i will end up having one of ay-mee's infamous breakdowns. and ay-mee has had enough of those. she is tired of them, dam