everything looks less opaque
yet insomnia always sees the morning sun.
and when i see your bloodshot eyes
i'll thank god i'm not the only one.

dear you,

don't bother responding. by the time you read this, i'll be out of reach from you, or anyone else for that matter. i'm sneaking away, dear, and i'm trying not to make a sound so please, keep this only between us two. won't you do that for me? who knows, maybe i'll see you again.

i'm writing this to tell you something i've never told anyone else. please read it all because i think it'll mean something to you. when i was nine, i was determined to climb our oak tree. so one sunday, i ran out back still wearing my best clothes and my shiny shoes and started climbing. a branch ripped my shirt, cutting me a little but i didn't stop and although my shoes slipped on the bark, i eventually made it to the top, swiping away leaves until i was perched above everything else. and what a sight it was, dear! i saw the churchyard with some of the congregation still spilling out and some of my classmates were frolicking around, chasing one another. then i saw my friend rohan. he didn't go to church with us and he was with pranali, she didn't go either. i wanted them to see me. "hey, look at me! look at me!" they looked up but i saw them squint their eyes. i don't think they recognized me at all. "hey, look guys! i'm all the way up here! it's ryan!" the wind then started to pick up and i think my words became airbone, never reaching their ears. they continued walking away and there i sat above the world, inarticulate with the sadness sitting on my tongue. then with reckless precision, the gusts began battering my body, knocking me from my nest. falling backwards, i was unsure whether i was ready to hit the ground or not.

that was the last dream i ever had and that is why i've got to go. through these sleepless nights i've come to realize that although my feet are planted on the ground, i'm still swaying with the breeze on top of that old oak tree. and i hope you know what i mean. if you don't right now, please come find me when you do. i'll miss you.

i don't belong all the way up there, dear. i'm only ryan.

here, My Dear, here it is
Last edited by SubwayToVenus at Oct 7, 2009,
maybe one too many dears, but you can tell how nit picky i'm being here. this was even better than the first part.
thanks man. i agree with you about the dears and i made some adjustments
here, My Dear, here it is