<font color="pink"><3 b.roken h.earts <3</font color> -- Back Alley


		Pens may write on paper But the feeling of what's written Can't be manifested by words Which is why I stare at this paper for hours With hundreds of things in my head Bursting with ideas of what I want to write But those thoughts lose their meaning When put into a fluid motion of the hands Once transformed into ink on a page An epic tale of two broken hearts Isn't a memory so much as a tale There are 26 letters in the alphabet They may form words Of joy and loss and compassion But only a fool would think that The word love could Accurately convey the emotion Because we can all define love And write it into texts But only a few can explain what it feels like To have a broken heart She hadn't expected the tooth to disappear; she hadn't expected anything from him. That was one useful thing she had learned - no expectations, they only leave you unprepared. And not being prepared always left you on the worse side of things. This bitch wasn't a dipshit, she chose to be intelligent about things - unlike a majority of the other dogs she had encountered. It was a good thing too, as she wasn't all that big [for a husky at least], and was usually a tad bit smaller and lighter than the other canines. Anyone [or dog rather] who thought they could pick an easy fight with her was wrong. She might look a bit smaller, but she was rather vivacious and clever if provoked. If you lacked wits and size in an alley, you weren't destined to have a long life. The nod meant nothing to her. She left it open to interpretation. Assuming either about the nod would have been a very moronic action to take. It would be assuming something and assumptions were exactly the same as expectations. Either way, it was an individual's own assessment and opinions differed. But he was getting the right idea about her, the random interpretations from other dogs had always been wrong. She could surprise anyone. That was her intention. Don't ever do what is expected. As the male laid down, the bitch allowed herself to relax a slight bit, but the tension in her body was still evident. She slowly eased herself into a sit, instead of the former half-sitting, half-standing. Ears flickered slightly as he spoke but her expression did not change. She didn't allow herself to "wear her emotions on her sleeve". As she sat there contemplating whether or not she should speak, she gave a slight, stifled yawn. "Heartbroken." Ginger-colored bitch followed him in his speech, not wishing to say more than was needed at this present time. He could call the shots... for a bit. Ready. Set. Go. .riddle me this <3 heartb.roken .call me a bitch .been in hell for 2 years .stereotype me as a siberian husky .color me ginger snap .look me in the eyes milk chocolate .visualize

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