The first  shy conversation, afraid to make eye contact for too long.

The first coffee, staring down our mugs with a smile.

The first road trip with laughter and jokes in the car.

The first meal together, where we acted too polite.

The first horror series marathon, your hand almost touched mine.

You asked if I was scared, I said no even though I was.

The almost kiss in the car outside my house.
We both wanted it but too scared to make the move.

The first falling alseep with a smile on my face because of you.

She’s more fun when she is drunk
At least…until she’s not
Because she’s puking in the toilet
And regretting her last shot

She’s more confident when she’s drunk
Gorgeous and ready to score
Until she looks in a mirror
And feels even uglier than before

She likes herself more when she is drunk
Until that feeling goes away
When she is so far beyond gone
That her self-hatred comes out to play

She’s happier when she’s drunk
All her issues leave her brain
But they all come crashing back at once
And cause her so much pain

She likes the world more when drunk
It’s filled with so much good
Until one little thing sets her off
And she hates it all more than she should

She likes life more when she’s drunk
Her mind for once feels still
Terrified of losing that feeling
She soon wants to end things with a pill

But she can stop any time she wants
Or so she’d have you believe
Because alcohol makes her seem so happy
That is, until all her friends leave

Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
  Rode the six hundred.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns!" he said:
Into the valley of Death
  Rode the six hundred.

"Forward, the Light Brigade!"
Was there a man dismayed?
Not tho' the soldiers knew
  Someone had blundered:
Theirs was not to make reply,
Theirs was not to reason why,
Theirs was but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
  Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to the right of them,
Cannon to the left of them,
Cannon in front of them
  Volleyed and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell,
  Rode the six hundred.

Flashed all their sabres bare,
Flashed as they turned in air,
Sab'ring the gunners there,
Charging and army, while
  All the world wondered:
Plunging in the battery smoke,
Right through the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reeled from the sabre-stroke
  Shattered and sundered.
Then they rode back, but not--
  Not the six hundred.

Cannon to the right of them,
Cannon to the left of them,
Cannon in front of them
  Volleyed and thundered;
Stormed at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that fought so well,
Came thro' the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
  Left of the six hundred.

When can their glory fade?
Oh, the wild charge they made!
  All the world wondered.
Honor the charge they made!
Honor the Light Brigade,
  Noble Six Hundred!

When everything
is fading away,
I will look up towards the stars
and let myself bask
in the silver moonlight of good memories.

I will remember their smiles,
the warmth radiating through their bodies
the words and actions
they dropped on me each day,
how I always waited and listened
for their calling of my name.

I will recall their good times,
when laughter tickled them
in devilish delight
when they put their differences aside
to be happy for the moment or so,
when they shook their heads at each other
but always ended up
holding hands, and walking together anyways.

I will memorize
the jagged pieces of their hearts,
stitched
mended
held back up together
for better or for worse,
how they tried to live
without cutting themselves
with the sharp edges.

Although I think only of the good
sometimes I burst into tears,
I sob and I shudder,
sometimes I can't forgive them
most of the time
I can't forgive myself,

but in the end, I need to smile
I need to laugh,
see that twinkle in my eyes
feel the warmth bubbling inside my chest
whenever I think of them,
I remember only the good times.