she's the girl that drinks too much coffee


the girl with the long skirts

she's the girl that looks through you, blankly
(when she's looking into the thing you don't want her to see)


she is the girl with sticky fingers.


the girl with honey love colored eyes



she's the girl that wonders who wrote all that mean stuff on the bathroom wall
who is becky?
why is she a gootch?

...what is a gootch?


she's the girl that has hair like
silk
halfway down her back

it covers up her spine
which pokes through her sweaters

and sometimes her overalls.


she's the girl that gets up early and stays up late
because she thinks sleeping is a waste of life



she's the girl

that begs you

with a single look

to love her



for as long as you can

and when you don't anymore,

let go


she's the girl
that will

understand.

the
      smoke
         fills his lungs
           like a smokestack.
                   the butts litter
                             ashtrays like
                    little potholes of ash
           throughout
                        his room.
              stacks upon stacks
          of the disgusting things,
brownish yellow- just like
           the **** on his
                            teeth.
                              
                                 his
                            breath
                                smells
                               and tastes
                                      as if you were
                                 lying facedown
                            on the hot
                              pavement, tongue
                            to the ground
                      gravel, dirt and gasoline
         on your tastebuds.
                  he burns
                             he yearns
                          for the fix.
                   when he works on his car
                       in the hot sun,
                             his fingers shake
                   unless he's
        holding a smoke.


                                           And every day when she comes home
                                            she kisses him full on the mouth and
                     breathes
                            
                          it
                              
                           in.

your breath
                      reminiscent of
                                                  ocean waves
                                                                           lulling me
                  to
                                  sleep

Maybe if I just close my eyes
squeeze your hand
hold you
as tight as i can
(not trying to hurt you, never)
but id try to hold on
tighter than i would ever let you hold me
i can keep this
i can make sure we never change

i believe in the idea of embracing change
it has always proven true before
even the worst bruise will eventually heal
no mess stays forever

you are the exception
for if i lose you, what else am i?
i am me
i am not dependent, no
it is just that me is a whole new person with you
better than ive ever seen
thats one thing i dont want to change

so if you notice me squeezing
closing my eyes at the 11:11 mark
(the same wish every night)
just dont let go?
dont question it
and we can let everything change and grow around us
any change with us
we can do together

Who said that love was fire?
I know that love is ash.
It is the thing which remains
When the fire is spent,
The holy essence of experience.

The sunlight during summer,
the rain of late, late may,
the sound of ocean waves smashing
up against the bay,

the droplets falling slowly,
the moonlight shining thin,
the feeling of your hair blown back
and tucked beneath the wind,

the ticking of a school clock,
the smell of fresh baked goods,
the feel of running freely, alone,
straight through empty woods,

The sweet call of the bluejay,
the wish upon the star,
the hours spent talking as
I drove you in my car,

The peacefulness of heaven,
the sound of soulful blues,
this is what it feels like
to be in love with you.