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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=532966" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Beloved Secrecy</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=532966" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I carry my notebook<br>with me<br>everywhere I go<br>because without the words<br>I'm just a lonesome dropout <br>looking for a body to love<br>I feel bad<br>when I read Bukowski.<br>His legacy<br>is well-built and strong<br>he would have said, <br>'You're crazy. And maybe beautiful.<br>But this fight <br>is one of the hardest<br>you will ever face.'<br>That's what writing is: <br>A fight.<br>I'm small<br>feeble<br>and weak-hearted<br>but words<br>are my favorite<br>weapon<br>and they are my best<br>defense mechanism <br>'Hey Buk, ' I'd say<br>'I'm tired of being cruel<br>and pretending I'm the<br>victim.'<br>This love thing, <br>I'm only nineteen<br>and I've felt it <br>with three different people, <br>maybe four.<br>I'm waiting <br>on a handwritten letter<br>from a man <br>out in Calgary<br>in his words: <br>'I like you Miss Vanessa, <br>you carry that gene<br>that piques my ever<br>diverted interest.'<br>In other words: <br>We are going to<br>fall in love.<br>We met by chance.<br>On account of what I believe<br>was fate tapping me on the shoulder<br>saying, 'This was meant to happen.'<br>He told me we'd go away together<br>and there is nothing<br>I love more than<br>the idea<br>of <br>getting away.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Vanessa+Grixti">Vanessa Grixti</a></strong></div>