Written for a man to mail his significant other while in jail for St. Valentine's Day:
If only I could stretch my hand through time,
And stop myself from acting so unwise,
I'd never have to say such sad goodbyes,
Or leave your stunning beauty for such grime.
I'd lie with you this Saint's Day, so sublime.
And lose myself within your sweet green eyes.
You're my blond angel who I'll ever prize.
To lose you, dear, would be a mortal crime.
And, so, I vow to be with you next year.
To make you smile, be your teddy bear.
I long for us to be together, free,
To kiss your luscious lips, to have you near.
Such wond'rous times and mem'ries we will share.
If only I have you and you have me.
Sometimes people look at themselves with such hatred that they burst into flame. When they've burned to ashes their spirit breathes life into the embers from which they arise as a new creation, free of the chains that they'd bound themselves by, free of the lies they'd wrapped their aching hearts in. When nothing's obscuring them they shine a light so others can look at themselves & the masquerade they call life. And if they have any vision left, they burn. I burned.
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