It is just a little token of how much you are worth.

For a firefly I know so well.

This poem is about the many dishes that we do every day.

It was my pleasure.

I trust you.

TOKEN.

I’m not mean, I just want to prove a point.

The whole me is left in bed, almost dead I guess but I travel to a better world whole and in one piece. Before I’m Broken… which is here I fear because no one loves the whole me, hell not even the pieces and how could anyone call that liking or loving…

For "Her."
Written: December 2002.

A wonderful secret that cannot be told just yet.