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Seven Blackbirds
Author:
Siyanna PM
Because love is not kind, and is never the way you want it to be.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance - Words: 864 - Published: 12-14-08 - Status: Complete - id: 2608121
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Seven Blackbirds.
Because love is not kind, and is never the way you want it to be.


Seven blackbirds in a tree,

Seven reasons for you and me. Don't You remember? Always all or nothing, or it wasn't worth anything.

Count them and see what they be.

All are memories, ones that I wish I can lock up and never remember them again. But Fate is cruel, and loves to make joy out of my feelings…only because of how twisted and wrong they are. Never for my own joy, only for hers.

One for sorrow

A teardrop is insignificant in a pool of water, but it can touch the soul as it runs down someone's face. Real truth in those words, complete comparison of the pain in my chest. Funny thing, I scoffed at the thought of a broken heart, because honestly, if one's heart was broken…they'd be dead. Yet here I am, unable to sleep, Your blue eyes haunting; even in my dreams. All because of You.

Two for joy

Three years it has been since I last saw You. Little twiggy kid that could make me laugh over everything, the boy down the street, YOU. Last night there You were, in the back of the car, meant as a Christmas surprise from Your sister. Instead my gift was a mild heart attack. A heart attack of love, mind you, because I don't think I could explain the feelings quaking and thundering about in my chest any other way…along with the sorrow. Betrayal is the same no matter what form it takes.

Three for a girl

A foolish girl, who has been done wrong, I may not be the prettiest or the smartest, but I do feel, albeit too much. Those eight words should not have hurt half as much as they did: "I just want to be friends with you." We've tried 'friends' before and look where it got me – to inexplicable torture every time my eyes land on You. Oh and lets not forget - my ex-best friend now turned enemy. I mean, really, was I not supposed to care that you both were on my couch, showing your physical attraction to each other…under my quilt?

Four for a boy;

A grown boy, whose voice is no longer light and girlish, more baritone now. Your eyes are the still color though, Sapphire. It is the way they shimmer when You're laughing, how they sparkle when You're up to no good. That look was a constant in my preteen life, the small smirk when You would catch me staring for a little to long, or when my head cocked wondering what Your cryptic words meant. All those looks we shared, secrets we spilled, and inside jokes mean nothing now. I may have just imagined all of them. Even the masterful actor can be fooled by a simple smile.

Five for silver

Silver is the color of the lake when we all would go swimming in the afternoon, trying to cool down from a day of yard work and mindless games. The place where You and Her first met in your lives. I realized too late my mistake, and then Fate was laughing again.

Six for gold

Golden. No way to else to explain the stolen kisses You gave me. But You always wanted more. I would tell You no, and still am, if the thought is still in Your brain. The mere fact that I love You did not automatically grant You wanton perusal of my body, for purposes of sexual gratification or otherwise. I hoped You understand. You didn't and so turned to Her.

Seven for a secret

I lied. I lied when I said, "No I don't mind you to are…er…partners. Really I am." No matter how times She came to see if I was okay, on Your behalf, after You and Her were down making good use out of my couch. I never said no, go somewhere else, because my excuse was, where else would They meet up? My house was in the middle of both of Yours, a perfect secret meeting place. Like something out of Romeo and Juliet. But they were fictional and died tragically…this secret is horribly real and just as but as tragic, and maybe a little more painful. Maybe I'm just being dramatic?

That's never been told.

I could never be 'Just Friends' with You. Because between me and You…it was always all or nothing.


A/N: Poem from an old poetry book I loved when I was a kid, by Emily Dickinson. Needless to say, I fell in love, and it has been on the back of my mind for awhile. My bestie and I were out last night, riding around with her brothers, and brothers…lover? Anyway brother's lover is chill, the other brother…been crushing on him for a long time. Kinda grew up with him, but he's two years or so younger then me…Anyway. Ouch. Rejection. By said Crush. Stupid boys and their stupid boy penises.

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