If Your World Becomes A Desert Of Snow,

If your world becomes a desert of snow,

I hope my love is en0ugh to warm you

Stormykatie, April 20th

Then one day, you decided to become a memory.

(When you become a memory)

Katie, 02: 32

Ours is not a romance. It is a tragedy. History made it so. Not to tell a lesson. But to make people feel...feel something. Love is not always good for the heart. It is not always butterflies in the stomach, or a bouquet of freshly picked roses. It is a game that we have to play sometimes. Even though the rules are not always fair and you have to die a death you don't deserve to give life to the other. You can't complain. Nor file an appeal. That's not how it works. For the jury, it doesn't always give its verdict in favor of the hopeless romantic. The judge passes your sentence with the pound of his gavel. And the next thing you know, you're being thrown in a faraway dungeon. No, it is not a romance at all. History has its own messy twists, don't you think? And love...it is not always blissful. So if you have to drink from that cup, make sure you are capable of enduring unspeakable things. For that's the essense of everything love has ever put forth for the sake of its own godly name.

-Love isn't always good for the hopeless romantic,

Katie, 20:00

When hurt

I may break

Like a figurine

May scream

Like a banshee

In gritted teeth

Curse fiercely

Like there's no tomorrow

When it's too much

And I am shaking

All my resolves

Crumble within

I may shed

Niagara of tears

May plead the gods

To send me

A little thunder

To match

The pouring rain

It's given

For my heart,

It is fragile

May shatter a bit

Like a glass

Scattered

On the floor

But what it won't do

Is knock

On your door

Beg for affection

Yes, when hurt

I may roll

But you will never

See me crawl

While I force

Together pieces

That don't fit

If I am not wanted

I will leave

It's that simple

-Simple

(Soon enough, I will learn to love the sound of my footsteps as I walk away from everything that hurts...)

Katie, 19:00

If all the words constantly storming in my head could be imprinted on my skin, then I would be a walking proof of how often does your name cross even the farthest reaches of my brain. All thoughts I run when I am alone. My unsupressed yearnings. The gleam in your eyes. Your face popping irrevocably in my memory even when I don't summon it. All the love bursting from my chest, an ocean of tenderness that could drown you if I have the courage to spill it.

The good morning wishes. A proof that even in a hazy state of waking, I remember you. And I take every bit of you, inhale you like the scent of Sampaguita mixing with the morning breeze. The long talks during coffee break. The crazy jests that open a secret pathway to my heart. All these sweet nothings. I would gladly wear them as a badge. A moving poetry of untold emotions swirling me about.

I wish there's a way for all of these to be imprinted on my skin. So I can wear you. Even if it means undergoing the pain of being inked. I would willingly bare my skin for the prick of the needle, endure the feeling of being wounded in the name of art. So I can have you. In this sense, even if you choose to walk away one day, a part of you will remain. A part that I will carry for the rest of my days. A reminder that once, in my youth, I fell in love with someone like you. And in retrospect, nothing could have made life sweeter.

-Wear you like a badge,

Katie, 11:00

When you gaze,the skin that covers me detaches itself like a silk falling off, revealing my throbbing fury, my secret longings, my sins...

(Falling)

Katie, 01:15