she said losing love Is like a window in your heart, Everybody sees you're blown apart, Everybody sees the wind blow,

 Go not too near a House of Rose —
The depredation of a Breeze —
Or inundation of a Dew
Alarms its walls away —

Nor try to tie the Butterfly,

Nor climb the Bars of Ecstasy,
In insecurity to lie
Is Joy's insuring quality.

-Emily Dickinson 

mailed a letter to the daughter I lost today