<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8045017</id><updated>2011-04-21T15:26:19.775-04:00</updated><title type='text'>From A Basement On The Hill</title><subtitle type='html'>"Il faut d'abord durer"......
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(First, we must endure)......
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-Ernest Hemingway-...........</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sara Tanasy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15400385061947281344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>19</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8045017.post-110996565702538014</id><published>2005-03-04T14:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-04T15:10:00.816-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Went to The Wall, Our Wall by Sgt. USMC Thomas Schick (my father)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="audblog"&gt;&lt;a class="audLink" href="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/50477/154540.mp3"&gt;&lt;img class="audImg" alt="this is an audio post - click to play" src="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/images/audioblogger.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8045017-110996565702538014?l=apassingfeeling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/feeds/110996565702538014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8045017&amp;postID=110996565702538014' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/110996565702538014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/110996565702538014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/2005/03/i-went-to-wall-our-wall-by-sgt-usmc_04.html' title='I Went to The Wall, Our Wall by Sgt. USMC Thomas Schick (my father)'/><author><name>Sara Tanasy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15400385061947281344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8045017.post-110992420784225758</id><published>2005-03-04T02:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-04T15:27:56.453-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sgt. USMC</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="audblog"&gt;&lt;a class="audLink" href="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/50477/154557.mp3"&gt;&lt;img class="audImg" alt="this is an audio post - click to play" src="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/images/audioblogger.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You couldn've been the world to me.&lt;br /&gt;You'll never even know how much I wanted you to be my father.&lt;br /&gt;But being a father is more than letting me call you daddy.&lt;br /&gt;I took myself away from you as a form of self-protection.&lt;br /&gt;Looks like it didn't work.&lt;br /&gt;How is it that I feel so empty now that you're gone?&lt;br /&gt;I'm plagued by all of these little thoughts,&lt;br /&gt;Like, was anybody with you when you passed?&lt;br /&gt;Did you even fucking care if I died?&lt;br /&gt;Jesus Christ I can't stop crying and I don't know why.&lt;br /&gt;Is it even possible that I miss all of the things that I &lt;em&gt;wanted&lt;/em&gt; you to be?&lt;br /&gt;They say that your life flashes before your eyes right before you die.&lt;br /&gt;Did I make it into any of those scenes?&lt;br /&gt;For a second I was wondering if you were watching over me now..&lt;br /&gt;Before it occured to me that you most likely went to Hell.&lt;br /&gt;It hurts so much that I didn't even get to say goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;"Do you feel like you don't have closure now?"&lt;br /&gt;What a stupid fucking question...&lt;br /&gt;I wish Sydelle hadn't fucked you up so much.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe things could've been different.&lt;br /&gt;Who's gonna' walk me down the aisle?&lt;br /&gt;My children will never have a Giddo..&lt;br /&gt;People ask me all the time, where my father is..&lt;br /&gt;"My father passed away."&lt;br /&gt;I can type it.. but I can't even say it out-loud.&lt;br /&gt;I really do know what it means to love someone and yet hate them at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;You used to make me feel so small and worthless.&lt;br /&gt;Now I just feel alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/167/3903/640/Thom52Bday-02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 1px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 1px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/167/3903/400/Thom52Bday-02.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.hello.com/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" alt="Posted by Hello" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif" align="absMiddle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8045017-110992420784225758?l=apassingfeeling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/feeds/110992420784225758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8045017&amp;postID=110992420784225758' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/110992420784225758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/110992420784225758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/2005/03/sgt-usmc.html' title='Sgt. USMC'/><author><name>Sara Tanasy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15400385061947281344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8045017.post-109405442598162027</id><published>2004-09-01T11:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-03-04T15:50:29.296-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm The Girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="audblog"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/50477/154537.mp3" class="audLink"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/images/audioblogger.gif" class="audImg"border="0" alt="this is an audio post - click to play" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Take everything away&lt;br /&gt;I already stare at the empty walls all day&lt;br /&gt;I must have done something royally fucked&lt;br /&gt;To deserve a life so severely mucked&lt;br /&gt;I just want someone to be there&lt;br /&gt;To hold me at night and make everything alright&lt;br /&gt;I'm a good person&lt;br /&gt;I am, I know I am&lt;br /&gt;But nobody understands&lt;br /&gt;And they'll never know who I really am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8045017-109405442598162027?l=apassingfeeling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/feeds/109405442598162027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8045017&amp;postID=109405442598162027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109405442598162027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109405442598162027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/2004/09/im-girl.html' title='I&apos;m The Girl'/><author><name>Sara Tanasy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15400385061947281344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8045017.post-109346851463461864</id><published>2004-08-25T16:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-03-04T15:29:01.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Make It Over/Alaska</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="audblog"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/50477/154515.mp3" class="audLink"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/images/audioblogger.gif" class="audImg"border="0" alt="this is an audio post - click to play" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;See the glow in your eye,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;Can't help but wonder why&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;I don't make you happy anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;Maybe you're bored,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;Maybe you're tired,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;Maybe you just need a change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;So change...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;Is it too late?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;To tell you that I love you,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;That I'm sorry,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;That everything could be different.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;If only I could change...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;They say that actions speak louder,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;But I feel like my speech is slurred,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;And you only understand every other word.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;Anything I could do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;Would never be good enough for you...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;You say you want to run away to where the grass is greener,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;And fall asleep at night with the sun still shining bright.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;Promises hang from every star&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;And the air smells so much cleaner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;But if I went with you I'd dissapoint you too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8045017-109346851463461864?l=apassingfeeling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/feeds/109346851463461864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8045017&amp;postID=109346851463461864' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109346851463461864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109346851463461864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/2004/08/make-it-overalaska.html' title='Make It Over/Alaska'/><author><name>Sara Tanasy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15400385061947281344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8045017.post-109337683621494160</id><published>2004-08-24T15:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-08-24T15:47:16.213-04:00</updated><title type='text'>When Autumn Calls</title><content type='html'>It was the pink that caught my eye. From the balcony of my third-floor apartment, I watched as the girl faught to keep her hat on her head. The wind won, sending the shock of color up...up...up... and placed it directly at my feet. I picked it up and was about to toss it back down to her, when I noticed how beautiful she was. She literally took my breath away, leaving me standing there like a fool, still clutching her little pink hat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sir, can you please bring me my hat?" She asked, loudly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sir? My God! How old do I look?" I joked. "I'll bring it right down."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran into the bathroom and attempted to make myself presentable. It wasn't perfect, but it would have to do. Walking down the stairs, I wondered if I should invite her up for a cup of tea. I decided that instead of coming across as friendly, it would most likely be taken as desperate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She greeted me at the front of the building with a warm smile and said, "Thank you so much! I thought I'd be stuck with hat-hair the rest of the day."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I handed the hat back to her and replied, "No problem at all." I couldn't take my eyes off of her perfect little mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Please join me for a cup of coffee?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, I don't want to inconvenience you or anything."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You'd be doing me a favor, I hate sitting alone."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's how it all began. I'm writing this now, nearly twenty years later, with my beloved wife asleep next to me in her pink-satin nightgown. I laugh now, remembering how I once thought that the wind was the victorious one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8045017-109337683621494160?l=apassingfeeling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/feeds/109337683621494160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8045017&amp;postID=109337683621494160' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109337683621494160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109337683621494160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/2004/08/when-autumn-calls.html' title='When Autumn Calls'/><author><name>Sara Tanasy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15400385061947281344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8045017.post-109337674498058395</id><published>2004-08-24T15:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-08-24T15:45:44.980-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Torn</title><content type='html'>Wave the white flag&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what to do&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow could change everything&lt;br /&gt;And I'm not sure that I want it to&lt;br /&gt;It's a no-win situation&lt;br /&gt;And either way, it seems like I lose&lt;br /&gt;You say to be selfish&lt;br /&gt;But I can't stand the thought of hurting you&lt;br /&gt;You want me to be happy&lt;br /&gt;But my heart is being torn in two&lt;br /&gt;What if I make the wrong decision&lt;br /&gt;Who am I to chose&lt;br /&gt;I've already grown so attached&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I could get by without you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8045017-109337674498058395?l=apassingfeeling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/feeds/109337674498058395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8045017&amp;postID=109337674498058395' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109337674498058395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109337674498058395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/2004/08/torn.html' title='Torn'/><author><name>Sara Tanasy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15400385061947281344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8045017.post-109337671416172935</id><published>2004-08-24T15:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-08-24T15:45:14.160-04:00</updated><title type='text'>His Plan</title><content type='html'>I was excited to go to St. Patrick's Cathedral. Mainly just to see what all the hoopla was about. I ran up the stairs and pulled open the heavy doors. Once inside, I was overwhelmed with the beauty and size. I walked to a pew and sat in awe. I closed my eyes and prayed. I prayed for things to be okay, to work out, to go well for a while. I asked Him to give me strength, courage and wisdom, to help me become a better person, and to watch over my loved ones and keep them safe, happy and healthy. I thanked him for all that He'd already given me and for hearing my prayers. I knew that He'd heard me. I could feel it all around me, like He'd placed his hands upon my shoulders. Somehow I knew that things were going to be okay. That He had a plan for me and that one day I would see it and it would all come together and make sense.&lt;br /&gt;I still pray, not in a church, but mostly in the shower. I've been doing that for as long as I can remember. I wasn't brought up to be any certain religion and I still don't have a "chosen" religion. But I know that He hears me. And it feels good to know that no matter what, there'll always be someone there for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8045017-109337671416172935?l=apassingfeeling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/feeds/109337671416172935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8045017&amp;postID=109337671416172935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109337671416172935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109337671416172935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/2004/08/his-plan.html' title='His Plan'/><author><name>Sara Tanasy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15400385061947281344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8045017.post-109337664659081330</id><published>2004-08-24T15:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-03-04T15:31:14.386-05:00</updated><title type='text'>With the First Leaf That Falls</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="audblog"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/50477/154517.mp3" class="audLink"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/images/audioblogger.gif" class="audImg"border="0" alt="this is an audio post - click to play" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Placed the ring on the dresser&lt;br /&gt;Kissed your pillow&lt;br /&gt;Said goodbye&lt;br /&gt;One last breath&lt;br /&gt;Take it all in&lt;br /&gt;Before I turn to run &amp; hide&lt;br /&gt;The smell of you lingered&lt;br /&gt;On your shirt that clung to me&lt;br /&gt;That clung to my heart&lt;br /&gt;That entire frantic ride to Jersey&lt;br /&gt;Your voice echoed in my head&lt;br /&gt;You told me that you loved me&lt;br /&gt;We both knew it meant goodbye&lt;br /&gt;Forever?&lt;br /&gt;That was the careless chance that I took&lt;br /&gt;I didn't mean to break your heart&lt;br /&gt;I already knew it would break mine&lt;br /&gt;When the world crashed around me&lt;br /&gt;You were the one who provided me cover&lt;br /&gt;Love - as pure and unconditional as it could get&lt;br /&gt;Was everyone right?&lt;br /&gt;Was I too young, too naive, too...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's almost 3-1/2 years since my cowardly flight&lt;br /&gt;Running was all that I knew&lt;br /&gt;When now all I want is to run to you&lt;br /&gt;My heart flutters&lt;br /&gt;As my memories with you race through my mind&lt;br /&gt;Amtrack - Last stop&lt;br /&gt;Knowing my life was changing&lt;br /&gt;Knowing I was changing&lt;br /&gt;Forever?&lt;br /&gt;Waking as you took me in your arms at the station&lt;br /&gt;Cold-harsh Boston wind on my face for the first time&lt;br /&gt;Cappuccino with leaves falling all around us&lt;br /&gt;Strolls through Common Wealth Park&lt;br /&gt;Produce stands, incense and perfume&lt;br /&gt;Your hand in mine...&lt;br /&gt;Foreign sites, accents and cultures&lt;br /&gt;Everything new and overwhelming&lt;br /&gt;Yet..wonderful&lt;br /&gt;Then you on your knee, your eyes shining so&lt;br /&gt;And the ring that was made for my finger&lt;br /&gt;A promise of love and eternal comfort&lt;br /&gt;I left it there for you to find&lt;br /&gt;Knew I couldn't live if looking at it without you&lt;br /&gt;I didn't mean to break your heart&lt;br /&gt;It was already breaking mine&lt;br /&gt;Regret that will undoubtedly last a lifetime&lt;br /&gt;Yet enough love in 6 months to be in me always&lt;br /&gt;October's coming...&lt;br /&gt;The wind is surely picking up&lt;br /&gt;Does it bring you memories of me?&lt;br /&gt;Can you feel that I'm coming?&lt;br /&gt;Is my voice in your heart?&lt;br /&gt;I can't re-write the past&lt;br /&gt;But I can hope for the future&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8045017-109337664659081330?l=apassingfeeling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/feeds/109337664659081330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8045017&amp;postID=109337664659081330' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109337664659081330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109337664659081330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/2004/08/with-first-leaf-that-falls.html' title='With the First Leaf That Falls'/><author><name>Sara Tanasy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15400385061947281344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8045017.post-109337619514283160</id><published>2004-08-24T15:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-03-04T15:33:11.423-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Glow</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="audblog"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/50477/154523.mp3" class="audLink"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/images/audioblogger.gif" class="audImg"border="0" alt="this is an audio post - click to play" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will I always be a silver-prize?&lt;br /&gt;Put an end to all these lies&lt;br /&gt;Won't enable you to bring me down&lt;br /&gt;I look at you and see a clown&lt;br /&gt;"This debt we pay to human guile"&lt;br /&gt;"With torn and bleeding hearts we smile"&lt;br /&gt;I try my best to make you see&lt;br /&gt;I will not simply turn and flee&lt;br /&gt;Gone is the girl you used to know&lt;br /&gt;Replaced one day with a warming glow&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8045017-109337619514283160?l=apassingfeeling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/feeds/109337619514283160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8045017&amp;postID=109337619514283160' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109337619514283160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109337619514283160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/2004/08/glow.html' title='Glow'/><author><name>Sara Tanasy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15400385061947281344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8045017.post-109337614473319024</id><published>2004-08-24T15:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-03-04T15:34:54.226-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Strong Enough</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="audblog"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/50477/154525.mp3" class="audLink"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/images/audioblogger.gif" class="audImg"border="0" alt="this is an audio post - click to play" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trading one addiction for another&lt;br /&gt;Trying to fill the void that I feel in my heart&lt;br /&gt;I need you&lt;br /&gt;I miss you&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I'm drowning&lt;br /&gt;Please don't leave&lt;br /&gt;I can't take this anymore&lt;br /&gt;I can - I just don't want to&lt;br /&gt;I hate this aching in my chest&lt;br /&gt;Don't wanna' feel so comfortless&lt;br /&gt;I'm lonely when I'm not alone&lt;br /&gt;What's my destiny&lt;br /&gt;What does God have planned for me&lt;br /&gt;Will it all come together in the end&lt;br /&gt;Did I run away too soon&lt;br /&gt;Did I ruin what may very well have been the best thing in my life&lt;br /&gt;Can you ever forgive me&lt;br /&gt;I know I'll never forget&lt;br /&gt;I don't feel strong enough&lt;br /&gt;Are you&lt;br /&gt;Tell me what I'm supposed to do&lt;br /&gt;Was I supposed to marry you&lt;br /&gt;Do you feel the way that I do&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could just reach out and touch you&lt;br /&gt;To feel your arms around me now&lt;br /&gt;Whisper sweet words of nothingness&lt;br /&gt;Mean so much yet say so little&lt;br /&gt;Love me&lt;br /&gt;Hold me&lt;br /&gt;Save me&lt;br /&gt;I'm drowning&lt;br /&gt;I'm not strong enough&lt;br /&gt;It didn't kill me but I don't feel any stronger&lt;br /&gt;Am I gonna' end up like her&lt;br /&gt;I'm so afraid of what's ahead&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I can go through all of this again&lt;br /&gt;I don't have it in me&lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of fighting this never-ending battle&lt;br /&gt;My heart hurts for you&lt;br /&gt;For me&lt;br /&gt;Why can't I just love and be loved&lt;br /&gt;And have that be enough&lt;br /&gt;Know that I love you&lt;br /&gt;Make me stronger&lt;br /&gt;Keep me afloat&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8045017-109337614473319024?l=apassingfeeling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/feeds/109337614473319024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8045017&amp;postID=109337614473319024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109337614473319024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109337614473319024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/2004/08/strong-enough.html' title='Strong Enough'/><author><name>Sara Tanasy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15400385061947281344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8045017.post-109337606465057520</id><published>2004-08-24T15:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-03-04T15:36:16.276-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Switch</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="audblog"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/50477/154527.mp3" class="audLink"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/images/audioblogger.gif" class="audImg"border="0" alt="this is an audio post - click to play" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gonna break out and get away&lt;br /&gt;From the pain you bring me everyday&lt;br /&gt;You don't know me or how I feel&lt;br /&gt;You're such a fucking cunt and you'll never be loved for real&lt;br /&gt;How long do you think I'll wait&lt;br /&gt;To tell you off and then it'll be too late&lt;br /&gt;I'll already be gone, and you'll realize you were wrong&lt;br /&gt;But don't worry honey, you won't miss me for too long&lt;br /&gt;I'll work hard and shove it in your face&lt;br /&gt;Prove that you and I are a completely different race&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gonna break out and get away&lt;br /&gt;From the pain you bring me everyday&lt;br /&gt;Can't wait for the day your heart fills with regret&lt;br /&gt;Then you'll see what all that bitchiness helped you get&lt;br /&gt;One day you'll be old and broken down&lt;br /&gt;And wish you still had me to kick around&lt;br /&gt;But I'll be gone and out on my own&lt;br /&gt;Doing better than you could've ever known&lt;br /&gt;So take this warning and make a switch&lt;br /&gt;Before I kick your fucking ass, you BITCH&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8045017-109337606465057520?l=apassingfeeling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/feeds/109337606465057520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8045017&amp;postID=109337606465057520' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109337606465057520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109337606465057520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/2004/08/switch.html' title='Switch'/><author><name>Sara Tanasy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15400385061947281344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8045017.post-109337585874797933</id><published>2004-08-24T15:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-03-04T16:11:02.526-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mass.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="audblog"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/50477/154576.mp3" class="audLink"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/images/audioblogger.gif" class="audImg"border="0" alt="this is an audio post - click to play" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How easy it would have been&lt;br /&gt;For me to give you my life&lt;br /&gt;My love, and my freedom&lt;br /&gt;I would have given up everything for you&lt;br /&gt;I did for quite a while&lt;br /&gt;Waiting impatiently for you to come home&lt;br /&gt;Rushing home to see you&lt;br /&gt;Hiding my unhappiness&lt;br /&gt;Doing anything to keep you happy&lt;br /&gt;It hurts so deep inside&lt;br /&gt;To think that I would have given up so much in me&lt;br /&gt;If only you had stayed that sweet, wise, gentle lover I had known&lt;br /&gt;If only&lt;br /&gt;I would have stayed, yours&lt;br /&gt;I wanted a family with you&lt;br /&gt;You made that what I wanted&lt;br /&gt;Because that's what you wanted&lt;br /&gt;You didn't want me&lt;br /&gt;You wanted a slave&lt;br /&gt;Someone to use at your disgression&lt;br /&gt;I needed affection&lt;br /&gt;You gave me coldness and more controlling&lt;br /&gt;I told you I loved you&lt;br /&gt;And wanted you to mean it when you said it back&lt;br /&gt;If only I would have stayed,&lt;br /&gt;Yours&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8045017-109337585874797933?l=apassingfeeling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/feeds/109337585874797933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8045017&amp;postID=109337585874797933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109337585874797933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109337585874797933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/2004/08/mass.html' title='Mass.'/><author><name>Sara Tanasy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15400385061947281344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8045017.post-109337581034137748</id><published>2004-08-24T15:29:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2005-03-04T15:41:13.846-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fan On</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="audblog"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/50477/154531.mp3" class="audLink"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/images/audioblogger.gif" class="audImg"border="0" alt="this is an audio post - click to play" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indecisive little bitch&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, that's me&lt;br /&gt;Don't ask me what's wrong&lt;br /&gt;Because I don't know&lt;br /&gt;Too much to choose from&lt;br /&gt;Family&lt;br /&gt;Friends&lt;br /&gt;Job - or lack of&lt;br /&gt;Love&lt;br /&gt;Wish things were different&lt;br /&gt;Wish I was closer to you&lt;br /&gt;Wish I could close my eyes at night&lt;br /&gt;And feel your breath on the back of my neck&lt;br /&gt;Wish I could wake up in the morning&lt;br /&gt;With your arms holding me close to you&lt;br /&gt;The way it used to be&lt;br /&gt;How much I took those times for granted&lt;br /&gt;Maybe we both did&lt;br /&gt;Wish things were different&lt;br /&gt;Wish it didn't feel awkward now&lt;br /&gt;When we say that we love eachother&lt;br /&gt;In my heart I know that you love me&lt;br /&gt;I can still hear it in your voice&lt;br /&gt;How vulnerable you sounded&lt;br /&gt;Like a scared little boy&lt;br /&gt;Laying on my bed&lt;br /&gt;Ashtray balanced on my stomach&lt;br /&gt;A Red in my hand, calming my shaking legs&lt;br /&gt;Fan on - cooling the sweat that glistens on your body&lt;br /&gt;"I missed these," you say as you gently kiss my breasts&lt;br /&gt;You look deep into my eyes&lt;br /&gt;I look away, blushing&lt;br /&gt;"What, I can't look at you now?" you ask with a sheepish grin&lt;br /&gt;"Nope," I answer&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8045017-109337581034137748?l=apassingfeeling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/feeds/109337581034137748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8045017&amp;postID=109337581034137748' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109337581034137748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109337581034137748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/2004/08/fan-on.html' title='Fan On'/><author><name>Sara Tanasy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15400385061947281344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8045017.post-109337578091332095</id><published>2004-08-24T15:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-08-24T15:29:40.913-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Safe</title><content type='html'>Do you remember the night when we first kissed&lt;br /&gt;The thunder roared&lt;br /&gt;And the rain just poured&lt;br /&gt;Like an endless flood of tears being released&lt;br /&gt;It seemed that moment would never end&lt;br /&gt;- I never wanted it to&lt;br /&gt;Everything was pure and magical&lt;br /&gt;My heart beat fast as a constant drum&lt;br /&gt;Your eyes - they took me into your soul&lt;br /&gt;Breath quivering, lips unsure&lt;br /&gt;You held me&lt;br /&gt;Close to you - I melted&lt;br /&gt;Needing and wanting we kissed&lt;br /&gt;Long and passionate - our love shining through&lt;br /&gt;The moment is printed in my mind always&lt;br /&gt;Still I feel your arms around me&lt;br /&gt;Safe&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8045017-109337578091332095?l=apassingfeeling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/feeds/109337578091332095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8045017&amp;postID=109337578091332095' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109337578091332095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109337578091332095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/2004/08/safe.html' title='Safe'/><author><name>Sara Tanasy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15400385061947281344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8045017.post-109337568680640906</id><published>2004-08-24T15:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-08-24T15:55:02.976-04:00</updated><title type='text'>In Between</title><content type='html'>No longer content to just sit and stare.&lt;br /&gt;Would love to run my fingers through your hair.&lt;br /&gt;Wanna' feel your lips on the back of my neck.&lt;br /&gt;Hate that you turn me into such a nervous reck.&lt;br /&gt;All this frustration is too much for me to take.&lt;br /&gt;You've got me drinking SoCo &amp; Lime for God's sake!&lt;br /&gt;Where do all of my guts go when you're around?&lt;br /&gt;Feel like my mouth is completely bound.&lt;br /&gt;I know if I'm determined, your feelings will start to change.&lt;br /&gt;But all this in-between shit's got me thinking strange.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8045017-109337568680640906?l=apassingfeeling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/feeds/109337568680640906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8045017&amp;postID=109337568680640906' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109337568680640906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109337568680640906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/2004/08/in-between.html' title='In Between'/><author><name>Sara Tanasy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15400385061947281344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8045017.post-109337558142789332</id><published>2004-08-24T15:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-03-04T15:48:51.256-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Doorway to Longing</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="audblog"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/50477/154533.mp3" class="audLink"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/images/audioblogger.gif" class="audImg"border="0" alt="this is an audio post - click to play" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She steals herself away&lt;br /&gt;Closes the door and crumbles&lt;br /&gt;To the floor&lt;br /&gt;Her tears fall&lt;br /&gt;Silent - as his shining eyes&lt;br /&gt;Her heart pounds a hurried beat&lt;br /&gt;Throughout her entire body&lt;br /&gt;She knows - she must risk it all&lt;br /&gt;This wild, frantic yet exhilerating rush of new emotions&lt;br /&gt;Her entire life has been by societies guidebook to the normal and to-be-expected&lt;br /&gt;Until now...&lt;br /&gt;Out of the house - she runs&lt;br /&gt;To stop him&lt;br /&gt;"Don't leave!" she screams.&lt;br /&gt;Her cerulean eyes look deep into his soul&lt;br /&gt;Pleading for a glimmer of hope&lt;br /&gt;And then his lips...&lt;br /&gt;And then his lips....&lt;br /&gt;First on her forehead and next on her palm&lt;br /&gt;Her fingers trace the curves on his face&lt;br /&gt;His temple, his cheekbone, his beautiful mouth&lt;br /&gt;Love - all the way to her fingertips&lt;br /&gt;He takes her hand in his and they board the train&lt;br /&gt;Nervous, scared -&lt;br /&gt;but numbed by an overwhelming sense of passion, yearning and new beginnings&lt;br /&gt;The conductors words echoe through her ears like a wonderfully broken record:&lt;br /&gt;"Eight hours...last stop" ... "Eight hours...last stop"&lt;br /&gt;In rythum with the clicking of the train - they lull her to sleep&lt;br /&gt;Her head resting on his shoulder&lt;br /&gt;She awakens to his sweet/salty lips on hers&lt;br /&gt;"We're here...we're home"&lt;br /&gt;Together, they step off of the Amtrack&lt;br /&gt;The cold Boston wind feels refreshing on her still-flushed cheeks&lt;br /&gt;This feels right... feels like home&lt;br /&gt;The sense of home that she's always longed for in her heart&lt;br /&gt;And then his lips...&lt;br /&gt;And then his lips...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8045017-109337558142789332?l=apassingfeeling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/feeds/109337558142789332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8045017&amp;postID=109337558142789332' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109337558142789332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109337558142789332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/2004/08/doorway-to-longing.html' title='The Doorway to Longing'/><author><name>Sara Tanasy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15400385061947281344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8045017.post-109324221297204398</id><published>2004-08-23T02:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-03-04T16:10:31.046-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sincerely Yours</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="audblog"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/50477/154572.mp3" class="audLink"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/images/audioblogger.gif" class="audImg"border="0" alt="this is an audio post - click to play" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could rip out my heart, I would give it to you.&lt;br /&gt;From the way that you'd make me feel,&lt;br /&gt;To the things that you'd do.&lt;br /&gt;Our promises spoken lay heavy on my soul.&lt;br /&gt;I can't go back and change the past,&lt;br /&gt;I don't have that control.&lt;br /&gt;Has your love for me lingered through the time that's gone by?&lt;br /&gt;Or was everything we had only a lie?&lt;br /&gt;With you, my life finally felt complete.&lt;br /&gt;So why was it so easy for them to make me retreat?&lt;br /&gt;When I should have been strong and remained by your side,&lt;br /&gt;I took the easy way out and ran to hide.&lt;br /&gt;If only I hadn't closed all those doors,&lt;br /&gt;I could've still been, sincerely yours.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8045017-109324221297204398?l=apassingfeeling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/feeds/109324221297204398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8045017&amp;postID=109324221297204398' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109324221297204398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109324221297204398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/2004/08/sincerely-yours.html' title='Sincerely Yours'/><author><name>Sara Tanasy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15400385061947281344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8045017.post-109324169394117389</id><published>2004-08-23T02:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-08-25T13:34:51.553-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Between the Leaves</title><content type='html'>I lay on the soft green grass, using my arms as a pillow. I close my eyes and breathe in deep, taking in the intoxicating smell of the Lillies of the Valley that surround us. The sun, like a warm blanket, envelops my skin. Tingles run through my body as you trace my curves with your fingers...so gently, I almost wonder if it's the wind. I turn to feel the warmth of your body against mine. "J'aime entendre votre battement de coeur contre le mien," (I like to hear your heart beating against mine) you say. I look into your eyes, I might as well be looking straight into your soul. "Venez ici," (Come here) I tell you. You slide on top of me and kiss my temples. My mind flutters as your lips work their way to the side of my neck and then to my ear. "Vous me voulez?" (Do you want me?) you ask me, as if my body didn't show it. I try to say yes, the words barely a whisper. I raise my breasts, pressing them tightly against your chest. You move down, lifting my legs to rest on your shoulders. Your tongue, slow at first, like a kitten lapping milk....growing faster, making me squirm and..."Je ne peux pas le prendre!" (I can't take it!) I scream. You climb back on top and crash into me. My eyes close as I throw my head back. Holding onto your shoulders, I pull you into me hard. I look up to see the sun, so bright between the leaves on the trees - just like a Hemingway novel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8045017-109324169394117389?l=apassingfeeling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/feeds/109324169394117389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8045017&amp;postID=109324169394117389' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109324169394117389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109324169394117389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/2004/08/between-leaves.html' title='Between the Leaves'/><author><name>Sara Tanasy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15400385061947281344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8045017.post-109324078004314786</id><published>2004-08-23T01:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2005-03-04T16:19:36.430-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/52/1534/640/Sara-Kieran.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/52/1534/320/Sara-Kieran.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&amp;Kieran&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/52/1534/640/Sara-Nancy.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/52/1534/320/Sara-Nancy.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&amp;Mom&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/52/1534/640/Sara-HNT.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/52/1534/320/Sara-HNT.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Xmas&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/52/1534/640/Sara-Grizzly.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/52/1534/320/Sara-Grizzly.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me2&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/52/1534/640/Nancy%27sFlight041.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/52/1534/320/Nancy%27sFlight041.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Momma, on a plane-tour in Alaska&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.hello.com/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif" alt="Posted by Hello" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/52/1534/640/Nancy%27sFlight109.5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/52/1534/320/Nancy%27sFlight109.5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);"&gt;Uncle Ken &amp; Momma, on a plane-tour in Alaska&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.hello.com/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif" alt="Posted by Hello" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/52/1534/640/Nancy%27sFlight003.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/52/1534/320/Nancy%27sFlight003.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Momma, on a plane-tour in Alaska&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.hello.com/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif" alt="Posted by Hello" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/52/1534/640/Simon%20-%202%20years.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/52/1534/320/Simon%20-%202%20years.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;Simon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.hello.com/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif" alt="Posted by Hello" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8045017-109324078004314786?l=apassingfeeling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/feeds/109324078004314786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8045017&amp;postID=109324078004314786' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109324078004314786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8045017/posts/default/109324078004314786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apassingfeeling.blogspot.com/2004/08/pictures.html' title='Pictures'/><author><name>Sara Tanasy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15400385061947281344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
