outside the window
rain pelting the ground
high in the sky
Zeus is grumbling
inflicting his misery
upon poor mortals below
flooding their homes
once again
panic wrought their hearts
too recent is the summer storm
but somehow we mortals will make it through
and tomorrow Khione will send a blizzard
and peace will calm the panic in our hearts.
the winter makes me so happy
the snow hanging in the trees
the cold biting at you
i love it
oh Icarus, you poor thing.
fell in love with the sun, the sky-
paid the price, i suppose.
why do we always pay the price for love?
Orpheus, lonesome poet,
lost his love because he wanted to tell her they'd made it.
In my attic I keep my heart.
I hold it there, safe amidst pillows, blankets and childhood stuffed animals.
When I make things, I break off a piece of my heart,
and sew it into pillows,
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