dear delilah








Fathers, be good to your daughters; daughters will love like you do.

you are the strength and the weight of her world

poetry

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Stream her with roses and daisies, dear mother,
let all that she speak be all that that she hears.
For no higher, no higher let her forehead doth grow;
and so dote, dote my mother, my mother so dear
and let her run free with a conscience so clear


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Thursday, 19 April 2007
holding hands

They think we're weird, our fingers entwined, our smiles large, our eyes filled with mania and mirth, and our actions incomprehensible. But we don't care. We admit, we need each other.

But there is never a need to say why. And that's what I love about us.



i don't like your girlfriend.

he told me that I've done alright
and kissed me till the morning light