Its funny how love ends not with fireworks but with ashes. You'd think we'd go out with a bang but instead we go out with a headcold and a pocketful of regret. Only fine instruments can break a heart and fine instruments take awhile to work so perhaps this has been going on for longer then I've felt the pain. I guess my receptors were turned off (or blinded). It was fun until I realized I had all these memories under my belt and a rash around my neck because the necklace you gave me wasnt working anymore (and it wont take new batteries) So I guess this is a poem for all the words I've left unspoken and every line I've never fed you because I'm too weak and shy and bashful. When I look back I wont remember this because its a happy moment in a sea of something blue. Take my picture down (notice it wasnt plural) and dont ever tell me good bye. [This backbone makes me fell better.] L L