"I trace my fingers in patterns along your skin and if ever there was a moment to be able to freeze time, god, this would be it."  

i take no comfort
in labels,
if i am sad,
and then i am lumped into depression i only feel the need to live up to that definition
which turns one night of feeling sad into a lifestyle of feeling sad,


no,
i will not label myself,
i will not be the sick girl,
i will not be the sad girl,


i can never stick to it,
i can never let it become me.

and all of a sudden,
for no reason at all,
my heart broke in my hands.
it crumbled away,
and fell through my fingers,
without even a breath of warning
for the emptiness that took over my chest.

We who are

your closest friends

feel the time

has come to tell you

that every Thursday

we have been meeting,

as a group

to devise ways

to keep you

in perpetual uncertainty

frustration

discontent and

torture

by neither loving you

as much as you want

nor cutting you adrift.

Your analyst is

in on it,

plus your boyfriend

and your ex-husband;

and we have pledged

to disappoint you

as long as you need us.

In announcing our

association

we realize we have

placed in your hands

a possible antidote

against uncertainty

indeed against ourselves.

But since our Thursday nights

have brought us

to a community 

of purpose

rare in itself

with you as

the natural center,

we feel hopeful you

will continue to make unreasonable

demands for affection

if not as a consequence

of your disastrous personality

then for the good of the collective.

Phillip Lopate

-   A N   E N D I N G   -

His eyes,

his eyes,

his eyes,

What she saw in them that night,

she would never forget.

Emma Watson, 2012, charcoal