il est mort

He always like to play with us, even if we didn't want to play with him.
He wiggled when he walked, when he used to have some fat on his bones.
He always found me when I was upset and just made it all better.
He would always always beg for cheese.
He lived outside, and when it rained he sat under that table.
He loved us all, and we loved him too.
He's gone.
Now all I can really think about is how when I got home today, he was just lying under the table, and no matter what I did, he stayed laying the same. He didn't move. Later on, he sat up and I petted his paws, and he pulled my hands closer, he wanted to have his hands held. When he laid his head back down, it thumped on the floor. My tears were messy and all over the place. And then he couldn't even hold my hand anymore. He just laid, and he cried. I didn't want him to end like this. I just wanted him to purr and meow and ask for something. Anything.
And when he left, I didn't even realize it. How empty it was when he was gone. The wind blew as we were tossing dirt over the beautiful box we made him. The wind blew him away. I want him back. I want him to not have any pain anymore, ever. He had such a good life, my baby kitty. Exactly 14 years and 6 months. He was perfect until the end.

So what's happening is that I don't often post on here anymore. I check this blog every day, to see if anyone else has posted, but (guilty look) i post more on tumblr. So if any of you want to check it out, my tumblr is http://sliverflowers.tumblr.com/
If i have any poems or rants, ill post on here. so that's why i've disappeared.
anna, i'm awaiting a letter :)

you know how sometimes it feels okay to cry? this is one of those times.

Isn't it nice? to feel wanted?

sorry for not posting. I've been caught up in other things, and trying not to just sit on the internet. Plus, I haven't been writing. I'm stuck

Shake the Dust

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0qDtHdloK44

Just click the link, and watch. And understand

I'm thinking about shorter hair.
I'm thinking about longer hair.
I'm thinking I need change but don't know how.

I got a certain letter today....
and because you told me you enjoy my writing, i'll put a poem on here. Fair warning, its old.

How can I miss
what I didn't have.
Just
out of reach.
My fingertips brush
something-- you?
The word on my tongue
the wind in my hair
and tight-skinned cheeks,
can I still feel it?
some days,
somedays...
what im reaching for
is me
but am i
already gone?