Peonies

This morning the green fists of the peonies are getting ready
to break my heart
as the sun rises,
as the sun strokes them with his old, buttery fingers

and they open--
pools of lace,
white and pink--
and all day the black ants climb over them,

boring their deep and mysterious holes
into the curls,
craving the sweet sap,
taking it away

to their dark, underground cities--
and all day
under the shifty wind,
as in a dance to the great wedding,

the flowers bend their bright bodies,
and tip their fragrance to the air,
and rise,
their red stems holding

all that dampness and recklessness
gladly and lightly,
and there it is again--
beauty the brave, the exemplary,

blazing open.
Do you love this world?
Do you cherish your humble and silky life?
Do you adore the green grass, with its terror beneath?

Do you also hurry, half-dressed and barefoot, into the garden,
and softly,
and exclaiming of their dearness,
fill your arms with the white and pink flowers,

with their honeyed heaviness, their lush trembling,
their eagerness
to be wild and perfect for a moment, before they are
nothing, forever?

-Mary Oliver

Dear Heartbreak

Must you hurt so much? Not to sound cliché, but my heart feels like it'll never be repaired. Do you expect me to try all the time? Never mind. You won't listen if I take that tone. We tried it once and you came then too, awful Heartbreak. Must you hurt so much? Why couldn't I be like that? All stiff and cold and cynical. I wouldn't ever have to worry about a real heartbreak then because I wouldn't have a heart to begin with. Maybe I'm being too harsh.

I can't put into words how much I love -- without sounding like an idiot, but you know, when it comes to -- my heart is soft. It's almost like I'm making up for all the times that I was an idiot, a jerk, a conniving, sneaky, bitter, cynical kid myself. Love is alive and it's everywhere, but why can't -- see that? Why? When they say that they have observed people? Why can't we get along? And why do you come along with --? When we speak, I hate expecting you to come along. I absolutely loathe you.

But are you the only way I am sure that I can still feel? What is the heart without you, oh heartbreak? But what is a heartbreak without the heart? You need to know how to feel love in order to know what losing love feels like. To feel what hurt feels like. And by Job does it hurt. I didn't know I could cry so much around her. It's almost like I'm experiencing high school all over again, except this time with --. Why, Heartbreak? Why do you need to be around me constantly? Is this what I get for feeling?


How would you like it if I just broke you in half? You know, that would work for me. I know for a fact that several of us down here on earth would love you so much more if your last five letters would just disappear for good. Find another planet, or something like that. Jump into the sun. Into something that doesn't have a heart to break. Why can't we all just...get along? Understand each other? Love like there's no tomorrow? Why do you hinder us, Heartbreak? Why do you hinder us?


Sincerely,

A recent victim

Harry bloody Potter, what have you done to me?

I CAN'T STOP BLOODY TALKING ABOUT HARRY BLOODY POTTER!!!! It's driving my family mad, it's driving me mad because I have so much information I want to share, and I need someone to listen to me rant about how I'm beginning to like Rupert Grint more than Tom Felton because of reasons a, b, and c, and how excited I am for the movies and rant and rant about their acting and their future careers as actors! RAAAH. Oh, and also to rant about how amazing they are. RANT RANT RANT

It's just not the same when I rant to nobody...my mouth is exploding and all I can hear, think, or see is Harry Potter.
HARRY POTTER HARRY POTTER HARRY POTTER HARRY POTTER

EEEEEE!!!!! I am so excited for the last movie to come out!!!!!