I wrote thousands of arcs in my mind about how we would meet and fall for each other. Yet none of them came true. Maybe I should have wished for one of those arcs from the treasure trove in my mind to come true—when that comet passed by earlier.

My tears are stars
and you seem to love
watching them fall.

To hope is to catch falling stars.

You wait with open arms.
You are waiting.
Waiting for something.
Waiting for something that you know will be beautiful.

You are waiting for something beautiful.

You wait with your hands spread like butterfly wings.
You are waiting.
Waiting.
Anticipating.
Knowing.
Not knowing.
The Pain
That will burn you alive.

It will burn you.

Till there's nothing left but ashes.

It will burn you.



And set you free.

Small Napoleons  .  .  .
Deep thoughts of narcissists,                                                     ­   
  .  .  .  I, ME, love me, ME!