inlet sunset

tingling needle points tickle the soles of
my feet, as your attempts at skipping
rocks fail. They succeed, though in creating
pulsing rings that uspest the mirror,
in which a second sky, one smooth as
brass, and in constant movement resides.

The only way to catch the sunlight,
and hold it for hours, like in a fishing
net, is to summon up the clouds to do
your bidding. They look like the day's
last breath, hovering just above the trees,
clinging to the air like words do in winter.

I take a stone from your hand, bouncing
it from palm to palm, testing its weight.
Maybe I could hit the sun I say,
looking into your eyes. Try you say but
you'll have to move quick, only half is left.
I pull my arm back, hard, and throw

the gray pebble, it disappears, with no
business being in such an array of color,
on such a July day, when the air
smells of salt and something else.
It disappears and we never see where it
lands. There are no rings disturbing the sky.


Okay, so I'd like to know if you like it, but I want you to tear it to shreds. This is workshop, tell me what you hate, tell me what to change. This poem is crap, tell me why.

Heather

days bunch up in weeks collaborating months

I have nothing to say really other than it's been pretty hectic yet calm around here. I have so many things to do, lots of books to read, a project to finish (that means a research paper to write) and a house to clean.

What I do have is a poem that I want opinions on. Of course. What else?


how is it, that you can
see what isn't there,
a hole in the whole?
hear what hasn't been
said, the silence that
reverberates?

what is it, in the missing
pieces, that allows
them to exist? I listen to the
silence, hearing the music
that it makes.
I look at holes, they
are objects in themselves.

how is it, that emptiness
is something, is filled and complete and
heavy?


It goes with my current story, one I'm working on in my very little spare time and when I'm not writing my other story. It's actually more depressing than it seems, when it's in context.

But that would make sense since (it's repetitive!) it's about a girl who's mother commits suicide (me and you, Caroline, need to stop using the same brain wave. Because this not only is coincidental with the Twyla story, but this is the one I wrote the same day you wrote that one thing...weird, I know) and in the suicide letter, her mother tells her that her father is alive and where he lives. So she goes to North Carolina to see him even though she's never met him. It's a happy sad kind of thing.

But anyway, opinions?

♥heather

same post, different title, different words

So yeah, I'm late. I said Sunday, but now it's Wednesday and I'm just now editing this post to say stuff.

I decided to skip talking about the play (until I can get the videos uploaded) and to go straight to the wedding:

It was fun, sunny, and hot. The actual wedding was beautiful with the waves in the background and the sand wasn't really hot so I was wiggling my feet in it the whole time. The only problem was that you couldn't hear anything. That was kind of disappointing. But her dress was GORGEOUS! It was the perfect beach wedding dress. It fit really well, too and she got it made so she could wear it again by taking off the outside layer and the bottom. (it's really cool how she does it, but I would be any good at explaining it, so just suffice to say that it turns from a lacy, silky floor-length gown into a silky, soft cocktail dress in a really smooth manner)

And afterwards, during the reception, Jess and I had fun with those little shiny peices of plastic in the middle of the table. These were particularaly unique because they were flamingos, toucans, palm trees, monkeys and ones that said luau. (oh, it was Hawaiin-themed. I don't think I mentioned that). And the food...mmm, the food. It was DELICIOUS!

And then we learned to hula dance, I saw a girl I haven't seen in forever, I saw Richard Nixon's twin (no lie. Richard Nixon has a twin. But he's not an evil twin, he's the other one. Nixon is the evil twin), we watched a fire dance...(i'll--hopefully--have a video of that piece of awesome, too, but for right now, all I can say is it was, in fact, a piece of awesome.

The only bad part about the wedding was leaving. And the cake. It wasn't very good. It looked cool (monkeys on top of it instead of the usual bride and groom), but it wasn't good.

But, you know, after the wedding, and after getting a little pink on my cheeks, I got to...get ready for it...BUILD A PORCH! yay!!!

not. The destroying part of redoing our back porch was fun. Extremely. It was a lot of banging and hammering and ripping and tearing and yanking and 'argh'ing and fun. But putting it back together is...not so much. It's a lot of riding in the car and going to Lowe's and carrying lumber and nailing boards and hammering said nails (and my thumb...ow) and arguing and manuevering myself over, through, under, and around an incomplete structure/support.

I might actually have a informercial set of pictures for you when we're completely done (almost...there...). You know, a 'before' and 'after' picture? Except it'll be more like 'old porch', 'new porch'.

Nothing really interesting on that front.
Or on any others.

Except (of course) a new poem. This one is a sonnet (non-rhyming) inspired by John Green and Looking for Alaska


It's a long way out of here, exponential
twists and turns, continuous dead-
ends and obstacles, 'cause
it's a long way out
of here, this place, a holding cell for
what this really is, a maze of
a holding cell-with bars and
doors around the labyrinth.

It is, however, a short way out
of here. If you choose the right way
it sure is a short fast straight path
with just a few road-blocks,
dead-ends, that is, of
course, until you reach the very end.


so?
♥Heather

I'm late, I'm late, I'm late

for a very important date!

I'm sorry, I felt the need to exploit Alice in Wonderland there, and I do not mean to say that I am in any way mocking the magnificent creation that is Wonderland. It's easy to do so, but I'm not.

So, I realize that I said I would post Monday, and I did have a break in the massive amounts of homework, but I also realize that I'm lazy. I'm a slacker. That's come to be known fact around people that actually know me. I'm Heather The Slacker. Okay, so you guys don't actually call me that, and some of you still expect me to do a little smidgen of my homework and madatory reading, but not quite like the rest of Waccamaw. The rest of Waccamaw just assumes (and you know what happens when you assume *wags finger*) that because I'm smart that I actually do my work. But, come to think of it, doing all my work is a very rare phenomenon, and you would have to study the species that is me for a while before you see this phenomenon occur. I'm not saying I never do my work, either. I just don't do all of it.

But enough about how lazy I am. I'm not Hassan.

Now, I promise to uphold my promise. I'll post a poem. =D


the ever-present evanescent*
quick like vapor
to come and go
as she stares it down, intense

the pen's in her hand,
the orange on her skin
as she scribbels on the page
and the glow soaks in

shafts of light catch the
dust; pollen dancing
shimmering golden specks
in the golden light

her hand reaches out
trying to catch a dot, a needle point
but it jumps back
towards the glowing source

and she's looking up, again
blinding her irises
as the others grow around her,
sprouting color

her pen stops, pauses
the ink stain enlarging
it's pulled away, a line
emerging, words have formed

a picture's painted
of the faint orange glow
with bright blue rings
and specks of dust gleam

she closes the notebook,
grips it tight,
holds it to her chest,
exhales (eyes closed)


Okay, the asterick (*) is not actually part of the poem, I'd just like to say that you, Caroline, will not call me teacher's pet!

that's all I really had to say. Have a great day. And I'm sure, the next post will contain a poem because that one I'm not just putting up for fun, I need opinions but I'm not done with it yet. So, next post, look for that. Happy Easter! (as I'm sure this is my only post before then)

♥Heather

THE Universal Questions! (and stuff)

Whew. It's great to be back in the blogosphere. I've missed it terribly. I've had computer problems that were most annoying and couldn't sign into Blogger, my email, facebook, or myspace. Now, once I get done here, I'm going to go over to facebook and have 18 million infuriating requests, notifications, and other nonsense like that.

Fun.

but, by now, I'm sure you are wondering: "Heather, made of awesome Nerdfighter, what exactly is this nonsense about 'Universal Questions' and 'stuff?' "

Well, fellow bloggers, I'm glad you asked!

I'm very excited about this (unfortunately I did forget some of the amazing Universal Questions but will ask the ones I do remember)!

Here we go:

Universal Question un!

On the Verizon wireless commercials, who is the guy with the glasses and gray jacket talking to, exactly, when he asks "Can you hear me now?"? (I had to put a question mark after his question and the Universal Question). And you cannot tell me you've never wondered this. And if you haven't (I don't know what's wrong with you, but you surely must be diagnosed soon, otherwise, I fear you might die) than you are now. You are asking yourself "Who is this incredibly shmexy person asking this question? Who is on the other line? And do they always say yes? Because he always says good, but maybe he doesn't want them to hear him? And if he doesn't say yes, but he doesn't say no, what does he say? Maybe? Possibly? Sort of?" Hmm... see, this question is worthy of Question Teusday, because it is so Universal, and not only has the question in itself, but sparks all sorts of new questions that are likewise Universal. I'll get on that.

Universal Question dos!

When you talk to someone, say, on the other side of the country or maybe the world, and they are on a different time than you, are you time traveling, or are they? Or are you both time-traveling? Because, yes, when you talk to someone in a different time zone, you are time-traveling, you just don't think about it. Ha! So, say I talked to Dante (who is in California<--so doesn't look like a word!) on the phone and I'm here in SC, am I time-traveling, is he or are we both meeting in the middle, say in Kansas or Oklahoma? Ponder that.

Universal Questiong trois!

If a Nerdfighter trips, fall, and bangs his/her head into a tree in the middle of the forest, do they make a sound, or do people just walk by and ignore them as if they were actually invisible? Now, that's a good Question Teusday question. Unless it's already been asked. In that case, 'you didn't hear anything'

Universal Question cuatro!

[insert you're Universal Question here! it will be featured and possibly answered in my next post. Well, that and if I remember the other millions of Universal Questions that I formulated while I was on a hi-ate-is (I don't know how to spell that word, so I just sounded it out, like they tell us to) so think of a question post it in a comment!]

And now, better and less important things.

I have an overflowing amount of poetry that I want to put on here because I've written a few that I think are better than previous ones in the past week or so. I can't decide which one I want to post first...hmm...ok, I'll just post the one the page is open to, and post the next one next, and the next one next, and the next one next, and if you don't get the picture by now, get out your camera, and if you don't have a camera, get a pen or pencil or marker or so on, and if you can't draw, copy and paste and if you don't do that, just give up. :D

Teardrop

finally, the crystal comes,
forms gently, on
the pupil
sparkling hope and

detereorating pain, the
crystal, it forms,
reflective of
greens, blues, and grays
of London sights
we see as we may

the crystal, it builds
shining the light,
glistening on sky in
shades of a prism

falling, the crystal
dropping, streaking, drawing
a line

the crystal so small,
so wide,
so large, it sparkles
with joy, therefore hiding
the truth

it smashes and shatters,
baby crystals have
formed
sparkling, reflecting
shining their sight

the crystalline
array:
it's the rain that must
come before
your bow


questions (only universal ones), comments (one the poem, please), concerns (actually, nevermind, if you have any, don't post them, I don't really care :D)

♥Heather

the more I previously mentioned

Ok, caroline, sorry it wasn't the same day, the computer was comandeered (sp? it does NOT look right)

That was the best concert I've ever been to. Of course, I've never been to any other concert before, but I'm sure if I had, that would have been the best concert I've ever been to. Because you guys were there and because it was amazing and because I was introduced to the amazing-ness that is Love and Theft and because it was Taylor Swift and because of the hilarious pictures we took afterwards.

It was great.

So is amazon.

I compiled a list of 12 new and used books on amazon and it's going to cost $25.88 for the whole lot plus the per-shipment charge of $3.00. I hope my mom lets me get them. I've been wanting to read some of these books forever. I hope my mom is very, very nice and lets me get them.

I'm planning on going out and looking for a job this weekend. Yes, I know it's Sunday, but I'm counting this weekend until Tuesday because we don't have school until Wednesday.

Long weekends are great when you have something to do. Like Williams party. I have to go. Courtney has to go. You go on and go to T.G.I.F.'s with John( so mean >:( ugh!) and Chloe. Go and eat the amazing chocolate peanut butter pie that you will regret for 3 days, then realize how amazing it was and it's not like you can't excersise to burn off the 1,000 calories you consumed while eating it and so you'll go for a run, or maybe even a bike ride, end up at starbucks and consume another 100 calories by getting the sugariest drink they have, then decide that didn't help get rid of the other calories you are filled with so you'll go home feeling all happy but fat at the same time.

Have fun! :D

But I'll be busy dancing to Avince and partying with Courtney and since it's Williams party, you know there will be awkward (sqwakward, wait, that looks so weird, how do you spell it, emilea?) moments but all in all it will be fun. And I won't be gaining any unnessecary weight. Haha.

mwahahaha.

ha.

haha.

hahahahahahahahahahahahaha.

:D

The Host is so good. Or, at least, the first chapter. It was great. You should read it. And I should buy it. Too bad it doesn't come out until May 6. :( But Chosen comes out in...hold on...1, 2, 3...17 days! (I think) And then just 20 more until City of Ashes. Yay!

Yes, I wrote a substantial post!! Yay!

but I also have a poem. I actually have two that I want to put on here but I'm only gonna do one for today. This is gonna be a long post if I use one of them (it's a long poem) so I'm gonna use the other (I kind of like it better anyway)


solid waiting as the
hands tick--thump--by
those year long
minutes
that turn to seconds
and back again (not
slow or fast
or in-between, but all
of the above as the
hands thump(pound) by)
and other than the
clock counting the time,
rythmic beating, the only
sound
is none and all
that fill that none: the
bird, the wind whipping leaves
against windows, the
slight humming of the heat
/air conditioner
as the hands pound--tick--by
and I'm left
waiting


♥Heather
*smiles all around*

Heather is SUPER DUPER excited (and a little afraid...)

WE HAVE READERS!!!! EEEK!!!!!! I knew that commenting on Maureen Johnson blog would pay off!!! I'm so excited I can't type right now. I think I've just hit the backspace button more than any other key on the keyboard (possibly excluding e and a). EEK!!! that's so amazing. And readers leads to discussion, which leads to being well-known, which leads to interviews/advanced readers copies! EEK!! I don't think I can say that enough! EEK!

so clearly, you know what I'm excited about, but not the thing that has to do with that little nagging fear that bites at you like a mosquito. Okay, so it's not that serious. I'm talking about being afraid of getting the flu (well that's serious) and the amount of poetry. I wrote 7. SEVEN in the last 24 hours. 6 last night, 1 this morning on the bus. I'm only going to post two, the one I wrote this morning (and that Caroline has read...) and one from last night that I'm not so sure if I like. Maybe I do like it. Maybe I don't. I think by putting it on here, it will make me like it, lol.

Here goes:

Do you know where I live?
Where my heart is?
of course not, you couldn't.
I don't think you live there with me, with
us, our home. it's those
piles of print telling their story(our
story)--my story--of
fortunes and failures and
falling in love.
it's where my heart is.
is yours? is it with those
people I hold so near? with the
tales and treasures and
talking of love?
it should be. we live
together in bungalows and buildings and
barracks with love.
Do you know where I live?
Where my heart is?



the paint strokes across the canvas
gentle—and rough—thick and thin
melting the canvas into something
it isn’t, something that lies beneath:
a lush meadow

the heavy pencil scratches
the paper, leaving it’s mark behind
more scratches make eyes, a
mouth, a beautiful woman

the notes float across the
silence, as the brush and the pencil
do (as your words do) forming
something new, a masterpiece of
beauty and grace

it’s larger, more intricate than
that of the canvas and
paper. it covers the silence, swaying,
pounding, loving.

the beautiful woman dances
in the meadow


all right. what do you think of the first one? I think I'm leaning towards liking it. This obscene amount of poetry has to stop(okay, it doesn't have to stop, it's not bad. It just has to start scaring me less).
♥Heather

(I hope all is well with you and yours and if it is not, it is my sincere desire that things get better for you. I hope you are having a spectacular day, a Thrilling Thursday. Our tentative plan for today is...)

^did I get it right? Or close enough?

[Their Song]

silence
breaks free from the
tightening grip of music
and the last melodic note
hangs in the air, hovering
still ringing through her ears. she
closes her eyes--breathe
deep--and
soaks it all up, a cloth,
absorbing the liquid noise
that isn't there
but is still hidden under that
small pink but-ton
just waiting to be grasped again,
to be heard. her thumb
lingers, many sizes bigger, swallowing
it up, indecisive and waiting
for a signal, some sign or another
that tells her to press and
Release.


as much as I'm waiting for next Friday to come, it's the here and now that I am in. Here and now isn't so bad, is it? Just uneventful. Chlo-chlo! Excited for her, except she already has the natural drama that comes with that whole situation, lol. somebody was upset, it was awkward...I don't have all the details because, apparently, Kenny deserves to know before any of us and she was talking to him. I mean, I guess he's friends with Jonathan....whatever. Enough of that.

How was Mardi Gras in French? In general? At all?

going to the mounds of homework,
going to decide on a song that describes 'who I am',
going to go slummin' in paradise,
♥Heather

I like ice cream in the morning and drink my coffee late at night.

A million things are going on around me and not a single even brushes against me. I've balled up into a tortuga(turtle) shell and have decided to let nothing in or out.

I haven't written in at LEAST a week. It makes me feel very crappy about the whole thing next saturday. It makes me even more nervous that I won't get in. I won't make my last chance to do something with my summer and my life. There's no other year to do it. This is the year. My last and only oppurtunity. And I feel I'm wasting it. I feel that by not writing I'm completely blowing it. I have written a litte poetry (very weird in my case):

gentle green flutters

she speaks of the wind
its tender blowing far
from the Stillness
--she jumps in
going down

down(floating
upup) joining her subject,
working as partners in

one whole flap of
red, the opening violet, blue
expanding
she looks down at gentle
gree flutters(she
floats up...

up)

You know what the result of this poem was?? Nothing. Nothing except losing my favorite writing pen in the mess of my room-in-progress. I'll never find it again. Ever.

There is a bookshelf in the making, a desk and dresser in the moving, and a pile of towels that have all been abandoned in order to come to the computer and do what? Nothing. All I've done today that was productive was add about 50 songs to my mp3 player and make some CDs. That's an accomplishment there.

I'm actually living through music now. I have nothing to read except the daunting, intimidating pile of papers that is the Amber Spyglass. I read about 4 pages and gave up. Ugh.

Amy's at a band thing, as well as Chloe and Hope and Kenny and I'm sure a ton of other people. My parents are at AC Moore(????). Natasha's at a ritsy beach house/country club combo in Georgia. I'm here. Doing nothing.

Despite the terrifying grumble in my stomach that accompanies any thought of it, I'm excited for next weekend. I'll actually go somewhere and do something and see my aunt and go ice skating and drink amazing German hot chocolate and have cats and dogs following my every move and go to my audition. The last is nerve wracking but the rest hold comfort.

I miss my aunt. I haven't seen here since October or so. I can't wait.

I also can't wait for 3 more weeks!!!!!!! AHH!!! it's coming so very near and I'm dying of anticipation! I might actaully die off before it ever comes around...

hopefully not.

As always, none of this is meaningful. None of this shows evidence to my life and friends. All of what I've said in this post is complete crap and holds no importance at all. It's nothing.

I never have anything to say.

Thanks Rupert!

Yay! Emilea's coming back!

Heather says, reflecting on the magnificent video: "I'm going to be an Oompa Loompa in Charlie and the Chocoloate Factory!"

Yes, it's wonderfully true. I get to paint my face orange and dye my hair green 3 times!!! I get to say mean stuff about Violet (congrats Caroline!) and possibly talk about how great books are! I'm really excited, but Shh!! I'm tutoring!!

Ms. Riley is definitely the best teacher to come to this school so far. Well, okay, so I don't actually have her class, but I love her. She's fun, funny, and great for helping form the Drama Club again. I would have never gotten this opportunity in Drama Class. Snaps for Ms. Riley (excuse the ridiculous notion, but I watched Legally Blonde 2 last night).

And I get to roll Caroline off the stage while she's a giant blueberry!! "Violet! You're turning violet, Violet!"

That's the biggest news I've got, except...I'm going to Greece!! Not really, but in my dream last night I did. And it was like one of those Goosebumps books where you can choose your own ending. I changed the ending like ten times.

And I actually wrote haikus last night. I never write haikus. Ever. I hate writing them. But I love all of the ones I wrote. Especially a very cummings-esque one:

drip-fall-drip-ing-drip
soft pounding of Angels' tears
drip-love-drip-ly-drip

It reminds me of tictoc clock.

*screws up face in concentration*

Does it?

and there's a good one about an Angel at night. It's weird though because I don't write haiku.

I'm having an exceptionally good day, just to let you know Caroline. I'm extremely happy right now. I've laughed so hard today.

There were 'tupees', bags of hair, dumb Bambis, country names (kurkistan), Noah Breyer's specials, 'smokein hot' 'hunks' that don't do it for Mrs. Young because of their Mr. Graham-ish hair, and multiple others. Lunch was empty yet full. Books were piled up to a stack 9-high (lovely). I smiled a lot.

(pardon if the rest makes no sense)
He was around, a lot. He stood in front of me, blocking my path, smiling. I smiled.
He said hi, after weeks of non communication. He touched my arm. I smiled.
He sat down and stayed for a while. I smiled.
She talked to someone besides him. She laughed. I smiled.
She took interest in my book. She laughed. She loved it. I smiled.
He said I was a good writer. He said I was a good speaker. I smiled.
He looked at me outside of class. I smiled.
He was happy (or appeared to be so). He sung. He talked, he joked. I smiled.
She made amends. She apologized. I apologized. She accepted. I smiled.
She joined a conversation. She joined a memory. I smiled.
He talked to me. He laughed. He smiled at me. I smiled.
She asked for help. She wanted me to help. I smiled.

I smiled.

I'm smiling now.

I'm missing a few things about 2007, but I'm smiling. 2008 has finally brought an amazing, nothing wrong, spectacular day.

Thanks.

♥Heather :D

dedicated to you

dedicated to you who have once fallen in love with a fictional character. you who have more than once fallen in love with a fictional character. you who loves books and calls dibs on fictional characters for fun and whines when you forgot someone and somebody else took them.

here's to you:

heart pounding
breaking my ribs-shattering them
palms sweating
typical teenage love as they would say

no-it's more than that
something special
expanses of ocean
where we would float
the never-ending circles we'd make

my hand in your hair
red, brown, blonde, black
ever-changing
never need be the same

it's you, it's just you, always you
with seperate personalities
you're the same
always

I read your face
eyes
the illuminating smiles
I take it all in, loving every bit

I feel a tingle in my toes
a ripple in my blood
the flap of soft wings in my stomach

it's uncomfortably comfortable
as my mind
it wanders free
always coming back to you
never anyone else

minutes tick by
seconds to the words
jumbled on the page
spelling out your name

the letters come in waves
hitting against the ragged rocks
washing them, polishing them down
to soft gentle edges
smooth as glass

and ready to shatter
if one foul swell
should come to pass
should dare to touch me

breaking you down
erasing the beautiful existence
taking away a part
a part of me
a part they wrote into my heart

~♥~


It's amazing how, once you start writing poetry, you can't stop. You can't stop it. It's like the first brings on an entire river of words.

I've never written this much poetry. Ever. I think I've written more poems in the last few months than I have my entire life.

please comment. tell me how you like it. It is, after all, dedicated to you.
♥Heather

I really need to stay off the computer

I have one more post. Hopefully the last one for days. Hopefully, I'll be spending the next few days having an almost unbearable amount of fun. Hopefully, there will be so much laughing involved that everytime we breathe we are in pain from it. Hopefully, I'll get to spend the next few days with my best friends. But, until then...


drops of water on the pages
salt streaks on my cheeks
all are evidence to it
to my feeling for you

candy wrapper, chocolate smudges
stunning images, memorable words
never to be forgotten
in the midst of heartbreak

golden light through green leaves
illuminating every piece
unwordly glowing
I close my eyes tight

the words, the lyrics fly by
accompanying the musical eyes
haunting and lovely
glittering specks of every color

flash me a smile
bring me back to realization
as I replay what you said
and my legs give way

"I love you."


♥Heather

another poem

she said to her
"never let this end
make it go on forever
'till we're pale and cold

I don't want the time to come
of solitude and desolation
no time without the ones I have loved
right there beside me, every moment

the last should not come so soon
the first should be remembered always
but every one in between
are what makes it all worth it

the stories, the tales
the memories to come
shall not be forgotten
in all of the years

you are most important
I hope I am for you
because you will be there
the day I bond myself to someone else

the day my child is born
the day they go to school
the day they graduate
and last of all, the day I say my final goodbyes

my last will be to you"


so? Chloe says it's good, but I almost don't believe her...

Poem Needs Opinions!!

ok...so...I'm sitting here at my computer on a Monday morning at 10:27 a.m.

Obviously I have nothing to do on my day off from school....

so...I'm going to put one of my poems on here...tell me if it sounds stupid with the rhyming thing because every time I read it my opinion varies
OK, here it is:

A tortured Mind, Body, and Soul,

But that isn't the worst part,

The last one is painful,

A tortured Heart.

A Heart breaking,

Pain that has no end,

The pain you caused,

To a heart unable to mend.

When you walked right by,

Without a smile towards me,

But a smile to her,

That's what killed me.

She received your love,

Warm hand and warm heart,

I received you civility,

Cold shoulder and cold heart.

If only I could switch,

Her for me,

Warm for cold,

And receive more than just courtesy.

To be held by you,

To come first in your eyes,

To be loved by you,

Would be the greatest prize.

It would stop the tears,

It would kill the pain,

It would mend my heart,

I would be happy again.

~Heather~

♥

OK, see, that time it sounded good to me...hmm...idk

opinions please!!!!!!!!! this is important!!!!!

OK I'm out for now

luvya