My Cardboard Balcony

Don't Try by Belinda Roddie You think you're hot stuff when you try a new umbrella boy for size, but I see right through you, so listen - please don't try to prove to guys you know that you're willing to drive on their rough road 'cause I have seen the way you look at me. The flush in your cheeks as you stare at ladies' smiles and hands and hair just remind me of the trouble that you face. I wish there was a way that I could brush away the guilt that flies across your shoulders when you look away. So don't try to run, don't try to hide your feelings that you lock inside, the kind that'll scream until it's set free. Don't try to love a feller's kiss when he can't bring you that much bliss, and please don't try to keep your love from me. We trade words on a yellow moon when nights are hot and drinks are cool and petty intoxication brings us down. I watch the way booze chills your mind and makes you grab m

To say love is eternal tries to imply that we are eternal. That our feelings are eternal. And maybe they are. After all, if after we die, our compiled energy bursts outward and goes elsewhere, who knows where it might end up. Perhaps eternal love isn't merely compartmentalized to two soulmates. Perhaps the outward energy we spare to those around us, pocketed and shared and doled out and re-doled out, contribute to a permanence in compassion.