23.4.14
"I love oatmeal!"
Coming halfway through first and finding a decent parking spot.
Light that warms your insides like the sun warms your face.
Watermelon after an intense game of Burgess volleyball.
The intimacy of speaking with your mouth shut.
Like I'm falling with my eyes closed and the fear has left my body
A three pointer to put us into overtime for the state game.
Next to the fireplace during a winter storm.
Unlimited Sticky Fingers on fast Sunday.
A blanket right out of the dryer.
Safe.
These things are how you make me feel:
18.4.14
Sad Chairs
I'm still waiting for you to come to a game, Dad.
I never thought you'd miss my senior season.
16.4.14
"i never said that!"
It's been months and, I'm still waiting. You've got a new relationship and a great date for Prom and I'm. still. waiting. Hoping one of these days your alarm will go off and you'll realize even though I was nothing but wrong, we were always just right. That all the terrible times, they made us reach for light. That people look at us and they're on our side.
Won't you join in the fight?
We were the bindings on a favorite book of a library shelf, worn out but holding on for dear life because we were in charge of holding the world, together.
I've got my own dogeared chapters but they won't go down on paper the way most authors would like them too because if we could put our story in ink, we could end world hunger.
Hunger for food and hunger for love. Hunger to know there's something out there worth fighting for.
Aren't we worth fighting for?
The blinds are covered in dust and they're turned down so the window glass and me can't have conversation. I miss good conversation and I miss needing to lift those blinds so I could stare at the moon and think about you and tell you I saw your eyes dancing in the night sky again and watch for airplanes to pass with passengers flying their way to better places than they've been.
The window never did anything wrong, but since you're gone I don't feel like I have much to say to him. He's like a mirror I don't want to face, cause I can't take what's looking back alone. White framed hanging and waiting for someone to notice the cracks that I should have fixed last summer. but I was so selfish with my time then. I didn't know minutes were shared on a family plan or that I used too many borrowed days.
I loved you in too many ways.
There were waterfalls and cliffs. Excuses and explanations. The doorknob always seemed to turn slower to the world but faster to our hands. I never wanted to leave your side because shooting stars only last so long and somewhere over the ocean there's a missing plane and how can something just fall off the maps? I never wanted a phone call telling me extraordinary was missing. I held your hand as long as I could because tomorrow was just a joke we told again and again.
I never understood the punchline.
D.I. sells trophies and more than once I've thought about buying you an award for the greatest just woke up hair and the worst just woke up smile. You have too much sunshine in your hands to dance on the pier after curfew and maybe that's why we always got caught. I led the cops straight to your door when you told me you had the world figured out;
Money never was your thing and that's not to say you didn't have it, you just didn't budget. You didn't plan out ahead so you wouldn't be left on the sidewalk the day before the wedding hoping to pay for the honeymoon you already bought on the credit cards you should never have used.
Maybe living paycheck to paycheck is easier than crumbling security. I guess you'd know better than I.
That must be why you're so fond of street shows and vendors and anything besides that bloody museum I tried to talk you into in New York City. I never could see the sidewalk music for more than pretty. You saw deep sea fishing and ice skating in Alaska on every note of every harmony of every song you'd never heard played just that exact way before. You said the straggly beards and the alcohol tainted voices opened your eyes to the mask the radio made for the masquerade.
I held on for too many days.
Won't you join in the fight?
We were the bindings on a favorite book of a library shelf, worn out but holding on for dear life because we were in charge of holding the world, together.
I've got my own dogeared chapters but they won't go down on paper the way most authors would like them too because if we could put our story in ink, we could end world hunger.
Hunger for food and hunger for love. Hunger to know there's something out there worth fighting for.
Aren't we worth fighting for?
The blinds are covered in dust and they're turned down so the window glass and me can't have conversation. I miss good conversation and I miss needing to lift those blinds so I could stare at the moon and think about you and tell you I saw your eyes dancing in the night sky again and watch for airplanes to pass with passengers flying their way to better places than they've been.
The window never did anything wrong, but since you're gone I don't feel like I have much to say to him. He's like a mirror I don't want to face, cause I can't take what's looking back alone. White framed hanging and waiting for someone to notice the cracks that I should have fixed last summer. but I was so selfish with my time then. I didn't know minutes were shared on a family plan or that I used too many borrowed days.
I loved you in too many ways.
There were waterfalls and cliffs. Excuses and explanations. The doorknob always seemed to turn slower to the world but faster to our hands. I never wanted to leave your side because shooting stars only last so long and somewhere over the ocean there's a missing plane and how can something just fall off the maps? I never wanted a phone call telling me extraordinary was missing. I held your hand as long as I could because tomorrow was just a joke we told again and again.
I never understood the punchline.
D.I. sells trophies and more than once I've thought about buying you an award for the greatest just woke up hair and the worst just woke up smile. You have too much sunshine in your hands to dance on the pier after curfew and maybe that's why we always got caught. I led the cops straight to your door when you told me you had the world figured out;
no one can have the world figured out.
I could reach out and touch the horizon but in Alpine my hands will only ever hit the mountains. They make a beautiful frame for a picture you know like the back of your hand but you redid the color scheme and the frame doesn't match the wallpaper and the picture doesn't match the theme. I don't want to be the mountains in a room for an businessman but I don't want you conquering wall street without me.
I could reach out and touch the horizon but in Alpine my hands will only ever hit the mountains. They make a beautiful frame for a picture you know like the back of your hand but you redid the color scheme and the frame doesn't match the wallpaper and the picture doesn't match the theme. I don't want to be the mountains in a room for an businessman but I don't want you conquering wall street without me.
Money never was your thing and that's not to say you didn't have it, you just didn't budget. You didn't plan out ahead so you wouldn't be left on the sidewalk the day before the wedding hoping to pay for the honeymoon you already bought on the credit cards you should never have used.
Maybe living paycheck to paycheck is easier than crumbling security. I guess you'd know better than I.
That must be why you're so fond of street shows and vendors and anything besides that bloody museum I tried to talk you into in New York City. I never could see the sidewalk music for more than pretty. You saw deep sea fishing and ice skating in Alaska on every note of every harmony of every song you'd never heard played just that exact way before. You said the straggly beards and the alcohol tainted voices opened your eyes to the mask the radio made for the masquerade.
I held on for too many days.
9.4.14
"amd they caught me on it!"
Does anyone even care anymore?
Because crutches don't work on a broken heart. You can't cast it up and tell me not to use it for 6 weeks. It won't heal.
I watched the tiny brunette break the boy's nose, and the dark haired exotic break the ribs,
but the blonde, your blonde, went straight for the heart. The trainer on sight was not equipped with the right bandages or even the right vocabulary tests to teach her how to deal with the phenomena.
They gave me rest as a prescription, but all this time I'm staring at the ceiling with eyes glued to the idea that waking up from the dreams is harder than sleeping without them. Thinking leads to aching. I think we need a different surgeon, because guess what: IT STILL HURTS.
Crackers and soup. Netflix. More sleep. Moving on with your life. Kissing a thousand new girls. Melatonin. Ibuprofen. People think they're doctors but they don't know how to deal with a disease plagued civilization.
Even in my new life, you're my motivation; to do better, to hit harder, to win stronger, it's always on you. Because I'd like to show you what you're missing, or maybe make you miss what I'm showing. Maybe it's supposed to impress you or remind you you've lost something worth making spare key for. Maybe I'm just as bad as the PHD's and labcoats that claim to have 8 years worth of learning what to do.
The broken nose: We're waiting for the swelling to go down before they reset it.
The Ribs: He's on medication and he's counting down until he can start lifting.
My Heart: I'll let you know when we find someone who knows the length of a real recovery.
Because crutches don't work on a broken heart. You can't cast it up and tell me not to use it for 6 weeks. It won't heal.
I watched the tiny brunette break the boy's nose, and the dark haired exotic break the ribs,
but the blonde, your blonde, went straight for the heart. The trainer on sight was not equipped with the right bandages or even the right vocabulary tests to teach her how to deal with the phenomena.
They gave me rest as a prescription, but all this time I'm staring at the ceiling with eyes glued to the idea that waking up from the dreams is harder than sleeping without them. Thinking leads to aching. I think we need a different surgeon, because guess what: IT STILL HURTS.
Crackers and soup. Netflix. More sleep. Moving on with your life. Kissing a thousand new girls. Melatonin. Ibuprofen. People think they're doctors but they don't know how to deal with a disease plagued civilization.
Even in my new life, you're my motivation; to do better, to hit harder, to win stronger, it's always on you. Because I'd like to show you what you're missing, or maybe make you miss what I'm showing. Maybe it's supposed to impress you or remind you you've lost something worth making spare key for. Maybe I'm just as bad as the PHD's and labcoats that claim to have 8 years worth of learning what to do.
The broken nose: We're waiting for the swelling to go down before they reset it.
The Ribs: He's on medication and he's counting down until he can start lifting.
My Heart: I'll let you know when we find someone who knows the length of a real recovery.
1.4.14
"i'll favorite it when i get my ipod back"
I've been counting the days since you left, 70, and I don't know when I'll get tired of more links on my chain.
#AprilFools
You smiled in the hallways and it was almost a cruel joke for you to pass such a secret to me under the hidden canvas of people and backpacks and language unhearable.
#AprilFools
I've got news for you that only you can appreciate. I've got a need for your smile to smile itself at the exchange only your smile can smile at.
#AprilFools
Because this day is dragging on and you have yet to show up with an April Fools joke about loving me again and I wish you would.
I wish you would.
Pain is a feeling and right now all I've got is numb. I've got open eyelids and a dark ceiling because sleep is merely a memory to my brain and the covers that once held us both feel cold without your touch. Not the good kind of cold either, the winter came back when I'd stopped waking up early enough to scrape my car, cold. The icy can't feel my hands on the handlebars, cold. The climbed out of the pool because of lightening and standing alone without a towel, cold.
An April Fools day without my favorite joker, cold.
I've been replaced by the tall dark and handsome, and a simple soul with much more to give than I.
#AprilFools
I've realized I never plugged in the charger, as much as I tried to save us all I did was drain us.
#AprilFools
List after list, pile after pile, note after note, poem after poem, you can't find the key I left for you under the door mat.
#AprilFools
I wish I were better at April Fools jokes, but all I've got is truth.
and not the good kind either.
#AprilFools
#AprilFools
You smiled in the hallways and it was almost a cruel joke for you to pass such a secret to me under the hidden canvas of people and backpacks and language unhearable.
#AprilFools
I've got news for you that only you can appreciate. I've got a need for your smile to smile itself at the exchange only your smile can smile at.
#AprilFools
Because this day is dragging on and you have yet to show up with an April Fools joke about loving me again and I wish you would.
I wish you would.
Pain is a feeling and right now all I've got is numb. I've got open eyelids and a dark ceiling because sleep is merely a memory to my brain and the covers that once held us both feel cold without your touch. Not the good kind of cold either, the winter came back when I'd stopped waking up early enough to scrape my car, cold. The icy can't feel my hands on the handlebars, cold. The climbed out of the pool because of lightening and standing alone without a towel, cold.
An April Fools day without my favorite joker, cold.
I've been replaced by the tall dark and handsome, and a simple soul with much more to give than I.
#AprilFools
I've realized I never plugged in the charger, as much as I tried to save us all I did was drain us.
#AprilFools
List after list, pile after pile, note after note, poem after poem, you can't find the key I left for you under the door mat.
#AprilFools
I wish I were better at April Fools jokes, but all I've got is truth.
and not the good kind either.
#AprilFools
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