One Art

How is it that this place, such a public place, can be so quiet and private? I think it's the idea that I'm not keeping things to myself- what i need to say is sent out into the universe, where maybe, just maybe, it will end up in front of the right pair of eyes. Cryptic things I need to say to a few people:

- You are my rock. Even if I can't tell you everything all the time, you keep me sane. You have given me everything I've ever needed, even if I haven't wanted it.

- Ditto goes for you, but in a more literal and less spiritual sense.

- I'm worried about you. I hope I didn't fail you. I want the world for you.

- I've wanted to apologize to you for a long time now. To tell you that I took the amount you cared for me, and the patience you had, for granted. We haven't talked in such a long time, and everything is ok. But I feel like I owe you an apology.

- I miss you everyday. I should never have gambled what I couldn't stand to lose and I am so sorry it was you I gambled. I love you, but not in the way you think. And I want to believe in you, very badly. This makes me think of you:

One Art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three beloved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

-- Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.