Broken Picture Frame

I've had your photo in a frame since 2004...
I didn't remove it from the frame, because I couldn't even bare to look at it, and remember what never really was.
when i look back i see that the only good times, were for those months in the desert, but that wasn't really you, it was all a lie induced by the hot sun and bad food.
tonight, while redoing my bedroom, I unpacked all the photos that had been taken, and somehow, the frame got smashed... something heavy must have crushed it while I was moving things all about... or perhaps I stepped on the stack of things it was in, and broke it under the weight of me.
But it must have been fate that the frame smashed right over your eyes.

so now what... do I take the picture out, and store it with all the other photos, or do i toss it into the trash with the frame?

Cruel and Fragile

The more I observe humans the more animalistic I realise we are. We like to imagine ourselves to be the most superior in the animal kingdom, but we are just like any other animal. We alienate the sick, the "ugly," the old, and the weak. We do not help one another, we are greedy and oportunistic, feeding on the downfalls of other humans.
I wonder if the other animals are as judgmental and cruel as we are, and it seems they are. The ones with the unfortunate feathers, shabby fur and smallest claws or any other shortcomings, are powerless, and undesirable.
I wonder if they feel loneliness the way we do, I wonder if they feel disheartened and unsatisfied with their lack of social success.
We are all sad desperate creatures, struggling for respect, power, shelter, and companionship. It is hard to be alive, it doesn't matter where in the animal kingdom you are. And I imagine it might be just as hard to be a plant.
For the most part we forget how dismal it all is, and that has benefits and drawbacks. The benefit is that it allows us to imagine we can succeed and allows us to find joy and pleasure. The drawback is that it enables us to take for granted, the people and good things we have, because we imagine somehow that we are entitled to better than we are.

It Is Far Less Lonely

It is far less lonely, for me to believe that if I talk to the universe, it is listening, it is far less lonely for me to believe that when I talk to the dead, their energy is out there in the universe listening to me, and it is far less lonely for me to believe that even I, as small and meaningless as I am, can somehow be connected with things as grand as stars and constellations and galaxies.
And maybe we aren't connected to anything, not even space dust, but what harm is there in believing myself to be part of the magic of the universe? After all, the only other option is to drown in the deep and impenetrable loneliness that consumes me.

Heartache

I want to know what it is anatomically, physiologically, scientifically,
that causes the pain in our chests when we experience loss and sadness.
If what we feel is mental and therefor, in our heads, then why is this unbearable pain I feel located squarely in the center of my chest, where my heart dwells?
It is an ache that almost compels me to simply cut my heart clean out of my chest, just to make it stop aching. Never have I had less control of a situation I was in. Never have I been 100% at the mercy of someone else.
You open me up, my walls crumble away at just the slightest presence of you, so why, if what you don't want, is to hurt me, do you hurt me by running away to prevent hurting me? You can't hurt me if you stay. You can't hurt me if you make mistakes with me, the only thing that hurts is the loss of you.
Maybe if I had no heart I wouldn't feel this hurt, but that defies logic because the heart isn't where emotions live.
So what is this pain I feel in my chest?
To taste your kisses and feel your skin pressed against mine, heartbeat to heartbeat, to listen to the sound of your breathing, to smell you,
those things would wipe this hurt away.

Undo this. Unhurt me. I only have this one heart, please don't break it.