Life is in the here and now, the present,
Death is in the past and future; regret and needs to be met.
But talking about dying, pain, angst, the last breath brings life;
Mysterious peace settles, an absence of strife.

We may think we’re alone in death,
But we all go through it, crossing that precipice.
Something we all have in common,
Not just for one but for everyone.

Sharing stories becomes living memories,
Remembered in death, then as homilies.
Celebrating life: a life well lived,
Then, death is seen as not taken but given.

Talking to you never gets easier
I fall back into fifteen
Every time your name is on my screen
The giddiness, the waiting
Waiting to see what you say
But now it's been almost ten years
What do I want to hear?
I'm not sure
Why do you tell me things aren't good with her?
At the absolutely worst timing
I have someone now
And you're not around
We're just talking

I'm staring at my ceiling
Overwhelmed with feeling
I know you'll text me tomorrow
And I'll respond
We'll talk far too long

Is it talking so long that makes it wrong?
Or is it how much it feels right?

After all these years
We start again
We know one another like the back of our hands
Slipping in and out of each other's lives
As if they aren't completely intertwined
No one else understands
Saying we're toxic and bad
But conversations are all that's being had

It's so complicated to explain
We went from love to fun to pain
And found new people to love
But yours didn't fit like a glove
Mine is going strong
But yours is going wrong
She doesn't want you anymore
You don't know what for
I feel bad, I really do
There's always been something different about you
I know you like the back of my hand
I lay in bed listening to your favorite band

Reminiscing

We thought we had it all together
But I found someone for the better
You remind me of all we used to do
Like making out in dressing rooms
God we were so young and naive
But still we don't know what we need
The comfort of talking, warm like a fire
I imaged more than this eight years prior

Office is a place

of meeting where people talk --


and that creates work.

If I showed you a still from a Wes Anderson film
I'm sure you'd probably have a lot to say--
a multitude of ideas waiting to pour forth from your mouth
and brimming off the top of your head...

I'd gladly spend as many hours as I'd need
waiting for you to empty your excitement
as you talk away about the things you love
in that adorable manner of wanting to say so much

Believe me when I tell you
your impassioned expressions
are more entertaining in their own cute way
than any feature film I can recall

Serve me a dish
of things I never knew
and stuff I could say
I only learned today

None of those present

gets ever interrupted --


when they're all talking.