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I'm not a graceful person. I'm not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2AM, I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don't belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn't happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don't see the lightning, but you hear the echoes.

Saturday, February 16, 2013

the fault in our stars

I lit a fire with the love you left behind
I followed your ashes into outer space
'make me wonder where you are 
Up on heaven's boulevard
And if I know you at all, 
I know you've gone too far
So I, I can't look at the stars.


This goes to someone who owns that spot in my heart.
Even if he totally forgets.
Even if he never really cared.
Never loved me.
What I have for him is real.

You will always be my Honey.
Joel Ilagan.

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