i can't help it.
i really can't.
most times i want to know if i did something wrong;
if you misunderstood or knew all too well.
i feel like our problems end up here.
this is our elephant graveyard.
the huge bones wander until they find the right web address and then settle,
our history laid in front of us like hired stonemasons constantly on the job.
i feel so guilty for looking though.
this is your private thought made into abstract symbols for strangers to see,
but i am no stranger,
and it is not so abstract or symbolic to me.
some things translate straight to "you fucked up,"
but maybe that's okay;
it always made me nervous that we never fought about anything.
you just make me nervous in general sometimes.
but i'd rather pour out my heart here and hope you don't see the dark little corners where i keep the ugly truths.
i'm not sure you'd think i'm so pretty after those come out.
but your beautiful words will stay beautiful,
and even if they are mad at me,
that gives me hope.
i hope you're well,
babygirl.
i hope you never see this,
babydoll.
i hope you won't hate me,
pancake.
no matter what,
this love for you will never go away.
it may evolve,
as that is the way of our kind,
but it will never go away.
mass cannot be created or destroyed.
love has mass sometimes.
therefore,
love cannot be created or destroyed,
it can only change it's form.
yours,
bee.