My name is Casey

Like Most Revelations

It is the movement that incites the form,
discovered as a downward rapture--yes,
it is the movement that delights the form,
sustained by its own velocity.And yet

it is the movement that delays the form
while darkness slows and encumbers; in fact
it is the movement that betrays the form,
baffled in such toils of ease, until

it is the movement that deceives the form,
beguiling our attention--we supposed
it is the movement that achieves the form.
Were we mistaken? What does it matter if

it is the movement that negates the form?
Even though we give (give up) ourselves
to this mortal process of continuing,
it is the movement that creates the form.

Richard Howard


You turn to me with frozen lips
Your hands are icy cold
Your eyes burn bright against the frostbit sky
You never seemed more lovely than you do tonight
Pale on the horizon,
Like leaves frozen on the snow
Our two shadows merge inseperably
And time stands still as its pierced with cold

The more I live
The more I know
What's simple is true
I love you

There's a warmth in my heart
That haunts me when you're gone
Mend me to your side,
Never let go
So time knows nothing
We'll never grow cold
The more I live
The more I know
What's simple is true
I love you
Twilight descends on our silhouette
How soon spring comes
How soon spring forgets
I wanna hold time, say it'll never begin
Old man winter, be our friend
Old man winter, be our friend
The more I live
The more I know
What's simple is true
What's simple is true
I love you
I love you

designed by jo naz

Friday, October 08, 2004

 

Sometimes i just need to remind myself that i'm alive.

I love him... I can't think of a moment within the last 4 months that i've been with him and anything less than happy. I can only strive to make him as happy as he makes me.

It's odd. I can't even put the way I feel into words. I'm not used to this lack of explanation, of words to manipulate into a mimickry of what i feel.

last night i thought of a poem i wrote too long ago about someone i don't want to write about anymore.

Your skin
Tells stories
Of pennance
And pain
Of anger
And repent
I read it
With my fingertips
My lips
Leave my stories
There as well
More stories
Of happiness
To cover up
Your pain

I don't know what made me remember writing that... strange little memory triggers... Strange little me.

I woke up feeling down on myself... it's hard sometimes to remember that i'm not the person they say i am. but i have lots of things to remind me. a t-shirt that makes me feel safe, a ring that tells me someone amazing loves me, a book that shows me how real it all is. And i have a kitten. it's a good kitten.

listening to sad music. i've always loved sad music. "she fell in love in the first place"

Who did fall in love in the first place? Was it from the first kiss, the first word, the first sight of him that i became so utterly positive that he was my end to the means? Was it the first time he ran his finger across my cheek? the first time he wrapped me safe in his words and let me spill my heart to him.

hmmm "we fell through the ice when we tried not to slip."

I distinctly remember promising I wouldn't get attached. That can be my one broken promise...

I love you |7:01 AM