I know that you see me.
I know, because I count the times you look at me.
Begging for the smile or the glance
That responds to the bad joke I made behind you.
I spend too much time penciling my eyebrows,
And I say your name when I can
To see if you turn or laugh.
I am not the quiet damsel that needs to be saved from a dragon
In fact, I would probably be too embarrassed to ask for help.
But I will be the one to tell you that elephants cry
And that the world is not as big as it seems
And that I love it when you smile.
I want you to know that I knit
And that I dance to ***** music
And I am not hard to get.
I am not the beauty that needs to be chased after.
I am the odd looking bird off the side of the road
That may not be a soft decoration but more of a device of entertainment
Reminding you of what a life it could be.
I will ****** you with my knowledge of Star Trek and Doctor Who.
I am constantly lost, needing to be found because I forgot to charge my phone.
I am a girl with many faces, and smiles and opinions
I am a girl who plays it tough.
I am a girl who is not quiet.
Rather, I am a girl who is quite loud.

How can you define time?
Is there a definition to it?
Some say time passes fast.
Some say it passes slow.
The universe has been around for billions of years.
But that wasn't long ago, right?
There is no beginning to time.
Or end to it.
It's infinite.
But, is a second little or a lot of time?
A second is in an hour is in a day is in a week is in a month is in a year is in a decade is in a century is in a millennial, is in a million years is in a billion years is in a trillion years and so forth.
Yet...
A nanosecond is in a microsecond is in a millisecond is in a hundredth of a second is in a tenth of a second is in a ninth of a second is in an eighth of a second is in a seventh of a second is in a sixth of a second is in a fifth of a second is in a fourth of a second is in a third of a second is in half a second and so forth.  

Time doesn't start, but it doesn't end.

TIME IS INFINITE!

What is the definition of infinite?

.
                         Root
                      yourself
                           in
                         calm
                   that       down.
            cuts
      you      through
raw.               ­         the
                                     panic
                     moments         of
              that                            forgetting
    spark.                 ­                                 to
                             ­                                      live
                      ­                                without      within
             ­                         hesitation                             this
                                   as                                                   soft            
                                to                              ­                              cage.    
                        how.

This is a daily reminder
That he doesn't love you
Like he used too,
And he can fall asleep
Under the shining stars
Without once imagining your smile,
And he can drive around
At 4am
And you wouldn't even come to mind,
And he can lay in the bed
You used to lay in
And forget all about your shape,
And he can dream of things
That actually matter
Rather than your stupid apologies
And I miss you's.
This is a daily reminder
That he doesn't love you anymore
And he never will.

An ocean between you and me
Six weeks of common memories
Little things of you
So clearly I remember
Blurred feelings about me you say you keep
Though, so much together to be built
If we do not talk
It does not mean
That we don't miss each other.  
If, for whatever reason,
We keep a distance
It does not mean
We forget each other.
Too late.
Your mind is in my neighborhood,
For good.

Raise your glass.

This is for the man
Who taught me how to ride a bike
When I was five years old,
Who taught me how to lay a brick
Wall with my own two hands,
Who taught me how to love
My heritage and my roots
While embracing change and newness.

Raise your glass.

This is for the woman
Who carried me for nine months
Whilst giving me my love of steak,
Who read stories of imaginable fantasy
And sang crackling fireside songs
To lull me into slumber,
Who taught me to Love
Even when she herself had forgotten how.

Raise your glass.

This is for the women
Who know me better than anyone else
For they have grown with me
In ways only siblings can,
Who taught me to fight for myself
And simultaneously be merciful
For I am not a perfect person,
Who gave me all the love I need
And then some simply because
They wanted to.

Raise your glass.

This is for who we were.
This is for who we are.
This is for who we will be.

Raise your glass.

Some blood is thinner than water.
Some ties more easily severed.
Yet we live because they existed
If even but for a single moment
And for that,
We give tribute.

Drink.