I swear I’m trying not to cry,
But it comes every time I think of you;
I keep asking myself why:
It turns out I’m a traitor, but a loyal one too.

I wonder if you think of me,
Or if you’ve traded your stray for a much better breed;
One that stays where you can see
And isn’t prone to making of a friendship lost, a need.

I don’t know if you feel like I do;
If you’re just waiting for an overture to come.
But I’ve given what little I know how to,
And still it seems our friendship’s done.

I believe in happy endings;
But I think this story might not end that way.
Sometimes there’s an inevitable end to things
That’s neither good nor bad, but just a sad cessation of yesterday.


Sorry again for my scarcity; I fear that may very well continue. I’m eager not to slip as deep into my wallowing as before, but when I try sitting down to write with positivity in mind, I immediately go blank. The closest I can often get to positivity, it seems, is a lack of negativity. Which frequently translates to silence.

In this case, I still may not have made it into the Sunshine & Rainbows department, but honest sadness is different from giving in to frustration, and this was very much on my mind.

Sorry yet again for posts unread, and comments neglected; my mind has been elsewhere. Don’t let that make you think I do not notice, or do not care; I notice your kindness, and care for your thoughts. My own thoughts, however, are not always suited to the challenge of being revealed, and thus I leave things for another day…


I’ve looked so long for a prince,
But I was longing for a friend;
I’ve watched the sun set from my tower,
But I was watching for a beginning, not an end.

I’ve been waiting for someone to throw me a rope,
But what I wanted was someone waiting for me to climb down;
I’ve been wishing for someone to make me smile,
But my best wish is for someone to be there even when I frown.

The Saddest Song

I wonder, if you saw me now,
If there’s anything you’d recognize:
It’s been so very long
Since I’ve looked you in the eyes…
I don’t even recognize myself sometimes.

Am I still the same little girl you knew?
Or have I darkened through and through?
Could you ever care like you used to,
For the one who didn’t seem to care enough to be true?
Or, would it be only a chore to you?

I wonder now if it was pity;
Years of friendship born of a sense of duty.
Maybe this is something you could see;
Maybe even then, the signs of what’s inside me
Introduced themselves to you as some instinct — maybe.

Or maybe, this is just life
Where some people move along
And others still are hanging on
To the memories that become the saddest song,
And wind up buried like the deepest knife.

Your Little Fool

Bear with me,
Watch me patiently:
Try to read my story,
Though I know I am a fool.

There are times I’ll say
More than ought to cross your way,
And then there’s times I’ll say
Almost nothing at all.

And if you try to stay,
It might be me who turns away;
Mad with the fear I might not see the day,
I verge so nearly upon cruel.

But if you try to see,
And accept even the worst of me,
I don’t think I could be anything
But your lucky little fool.

The Fairy and the Troll

“Don’t forget to breathe!”
Cried the fairy to the troll;
For the latter oft was first to leave,
And last to reach the goal.

The two were friends from long ago —
Almost as long as memory;
Through ice and wind and rain and snow,
And much that friends cannot foresee.

The little fairy was as light and fair
As feather, frond, or cloud could be;
Her friend the troll was strong and rare,
Though less deft of feet and mind was he.

Yet ever the two went side by side,
Each the knight at some time or other;
For two succeed where one has tried,
When one is firm and one is clever.

They had for themselves a tournament,
Of which only they’d partake;
A path they carved, and they raced it
From their village, far down to the lake.

The troll, he always started strong,
But never could adapt his strength
To match his friend who rode along
On the wind and always won the race.

Now, the fairy wanted nothing more
Than for her friend to best her fair and square,
And spent her time searching for
A thought that just may help them there.

She tried everything she thought of
To give an edge to her defeated friend;
But every plan she thought up
Still found her waiting at the end.

Until finally, she had a thought
And they ran one final round:
With a smile as she raced fair like she’d taught,
With her own feet firmly on the ground.

When All Is Said and Done

Well, I did it. It’s far from a masterpiece, there’s probably inconsistencies, and I ended it on a bit of a cliffhanger, but I actually managed to write a 50,000 word story in one month. I kept with it, all the way through, and I’m pretty thrilled about that. Thank you all for bearing with me.

When all is said and done;
When I’ve wrangled with the tide;
When I remain there standing strong —
Who’ll be standing by my side?

When my absences are long;
When I fear I’ve lost my mind;
When everybody else is gone —
I think I know who I will find.


I wish that I could say
That it was you who walked away;
But I’m the one who drifted,
And it’s me who’s still conflicted.

You’ve moved on to something new;
And after all, why wouldn’t you?
I’m the one who’s standing still:
You have places you can go, and will.

But still it’s hard for me to hear
How you came so very near —
Even so far to knock;
And yet, you never came to talk.

Not to me; but to another:
And how painful it is my brother
So easily can talk to you,
When I’m too much a coward to.

But then, what can I say?
For it was me who lost my way.
You’re not the one who drifted;
And I’m the only one that’s still conflicted.

At Ease

What’s this, that makes me laugh to trembles?
I feel it’s something I rarely know.
So often I exaggerate smiles;
Such a joy to just let go.

Something keeps me from connection;
A blame that only I can take.
I fear all I do is misdirection;
That everything I am is fake.

I’ve restrained myself without realizing,
Feeling some things just can’t be said;
Which seems to be most everything
That rolls around inside my head.

But how much worse to be stifled;
To feel always you’re alone.
How much worse to grow idled,
Detached from any life or home.

But to feel that you’re alive —
Even if you might just crash and burn?
I think I just might chance a dive,
If that’s something I can learn.