god keeps giving me the broken ones. god in the sense of the random factor the thread of life etc. i don't believe in capital g god i just think the concept is sexy. i digress.

god keeps giving me the broken ones, and i love them. they're radiant and stunning and gorgeous. and doomed.

as an angel, i know i'll outlive everyone i love in this life, but it seems cruel that it's happening so soon. maybe i wasn't a very good angel. maybe G god wanted to torment me, converting doomed followers to my religion only to rend them away from me before they can be happy.

i love too much. i love too easy. neither of which are true but both of which hang over my head at all times.

it's a curse to see the beauty of the world from an angel's eyes. no one can ever understand the ecstatsy, the joy. you'll never be able to bring your loved ones with you.