After: day 5

this is me, fulfilling me temporary requirement for sad/bad poetry:

A hundred and two days, pick yourself up after you fall
Three months left, deadlines draw near
imagine: only a hundred-two days to familiarize
commit to the features
make up more lies
Fourteen weeks, there isn't much to go
lifetimes can live inside memories
don't forget me this time
wasted moments mean everything
live life in between
every day spent wishing for day a hundred and three

--

Tell me, are you thinking,

that everything is done as far we go?

And if you have a minute,

please just don't let me go.

Is there something I missed,

let's talk about it somewhere only we know?

This could be the end of everything

So why don't we go,

somewhere only we know?

--

moments between

i live for those moments,

however brief they may be,

the ones in between

you not being near me

-----------

and a nice little snippet

"You probably knew me by then.

That I would do anything in a heartbeat.

That I was ready for the late nights and the tears and the failed attempts only to

try and try again until everything was finally ok.

You only had to climb back in.

I wanted to scream, to shout, to ask you why and where and who and when, but most of all hold you tight, a shield from all the heartache.

Giving peace and destroying pain in one single surge of emotion completely dedicated to you.

But instead I just nodded, my lips tightened, imitating yours.

A strange thing happened then.

I half expected you to look up at me and explain it all.

Indecision, maybe, flashed through your mind.

However fate prevailed and you walked off.

Turning the corner of the building without another word.

I knew that I would never see you again.

And it was awhile before I would be ok with that."

and now a lovely little thing of beauty

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7z0-3X_-pBY&feature=player_embedded#at=20