Hands In My Pa. Ket. Poem by haidee blanche

*something i wrote this afternoon. it took me a while. perhaps i was thinking too hard. now it appears that this will ONLY be a mere reply. unnoticed and UNnecessary. should have posted it somewhere below your drowning perpetual thoughts.

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Hands in my Pa. Ket.



No banners, posters, tarps, props, taglines, or headlines can measure what you are actually made of.


I had a glimpse of that genuine version of you and instantly made a poker face to hide my surprise. It made me proud (of you) .


I believe that people should give each other the chance for a second introduction. Sometimes, that is when one can really see through another person.


… which brings me to the reason why I hate footnotes. Sometimes they are to small that you notice them too late, considering that they are found below the sea of big bold letters that make up the story.


Either you will thank the footnotes for their last-minute salvation, or choose to completely ignore them because you already formed this certain notion or idea, and quickly fell in love with it, making it hard for you to edit and let go of what is supposed to be w, r, o, n, g, .


Hmmm… maybe I’ll take the bus.

So when’s your flight?


March 11,2008