Along the meadows the sun shone its bright colors, glorifying the beauty of nature. I knew I was right where I wanted to be. I knew the wind howling in the distance was a call from the birds who were ready for me to come outside and play. School was almost over and the kids were riding bikes along the paths of sunshine and yellow flowers. The sun woke me up that day and I knew that I was right where I needed to be. With the sun shining over me and the sound of the birds just waiting for me to come outside and play.

It was raining that morning and I had awoken to your soft touch on my rosy, red, cheeks as I laid in bed ill and still tired. Your song you used to sing to me every morning washed through my head like the waves do on a tropical island. You whispered in my ear and told me I’d be alright and asked if maybe I would like some tea. I was sick but I loved it, I wanted your arms held around my aching body, I wanted to finally feel loved and wanted and you made me feel as so. So maybe it isn’t so bad to be sick in bed, maybe the tea and the soft rain was all worth it, but only so I could be loved again.

I wouldn’t like to believe I am cold. I am not cold. I am uncertain. They mean the same thing to you, I know it. I am tired. I am awake at 4:19 a.m. and the world is asleep. The moon just laid to rest but not for good only just for the hours no one needed him. I needed the moon hours before when we talked about our lives, its craters were deep he had aged since we last discussed the world. I felt that the world was in my hands at that hour, I must go do something good I thought only to lie awake as the fan chirped above me. I am not cold but I am uncertain. The moon told me my path was steady but who is he to say, he only comes out in the late hours. The hours no one seems to pay any mind to, the world is asleep.

I’m sorry I’m late. This thing called depression kept me from coming.

I laid in bed that night with a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach. Not winter but fall. It was back in my home. The darkness I felt winters ago, perched up on my windowsill begging the sun to shine for just one day. I felt his silence when I knew he was near. My heart was heavy and cold, I could hear his words creeping up on me in the night. It was dark. But I could feel the pain rushing back in. It was dark and there was a lonely cat outside my window.

The staircase looked to be painted green or something meant to be blue but ended up green
The green was chipped with flakes of brown hardwood poking through the crevices
Of the emerald color. I stepped on the first staircase remembering the warm Augusts there but mostly the fall. His coat was still hanging on the pole connected to the railing I glanced at it and it glanced back at me. Staring into my soul but my weeping eyes as I remembered what it felt like to be in love. His coat smelled of cologne and dried rain. I put it over my shoulders, tears falling into place.
This staircase in our home belonged to us and only us, but then he left and now it is only me, It is only me with all my faults and ripped jeans too big to fit my withering waistline as I count the days gone by. I count the days on the calendar marking a tiny X in the corner hoping still he might walk through the door. I hope still, that he would greet me with the same expressions he once did before, always first asking me about my day. Now I enter my home with empty dreams and dark memories with no one to call out my name. The staircase was for us, it was the road map to our dreams. The staircase carried our first boxes all marked and packed with things that belonged to us. The staircase carried our long nights after staying up late, talking about things only we knew.
The Staircase who was once emerald green carried what I thought to be our future but ended up as a memory from the past in only a matter of seconds. I never knew why he left me sitting upon that staircase, my head buried in the palms of my hands atop that staircase . He left in a fit of rage with the idea of never coming back, I didn’t think that was so.  But now this staircase carry’s regret, for I shouldn’t have said what I said but the staircase knew I only wanted what was best. The staircase may also carry my future, I just haven’t discovered what that might be yet.

The corner store, just a short walk from the docks, the one made of honey and fresh peaches. I remember it like it was yesterday bare feet and pebbled rock. From the shore the children would run, mom and dad gave a nickel for ice cream. I rode my bike on a summers afternoon and I rung my bell as I neared closer to the hot pressed waffle cones. Mr. Wright became my friend on a summer night, he ran the general store. I’d go in and we’d talk for hours, a fresh coca cola and a fudge sickle bar. I wish Mr. Wright was here on this fine night where I am feeling a little more lonely. I wish Mr. Wright wasn’t flying high with the birds singing the same song he always sang. I wish for a Coca Cola and I dream of something of dasies and open fields.

Be still. Be sad. Be happy. Be tired. Be intelligent. Be wondering. Be telling. Be forgiving. Be demanding. Be a leader. Be a yogi. Be yourself. Be practical. Be a dreamer. Be an artist. Be a mathematician. Be a teacher. Be a student. Be kind. Be little. Be big. Be healthy. Be beautiful. Be bare. Be undiscovered. Be mindful. Be self enduring. Be persistent. Be a poet. Be poetry. Be anything and everything you want to be but, don’t be sorry. Don’t let him make you believe it was your fault. Don’t let him tell you that were asking for it. - You aren’t sorry

I hope tomorrow is better than today. I hope the rain falls more calmly and the stars line up just right. I hope tomorrow love won’t knock me down once I get up again, I hope tomorrow I win the fight. Today I fell down because love pushed me over and crippled me, I was scared to rise again. The kitten embraced me like kittens do and I was able to face the day but, a presence loomed over me, reminding me of the darkness that forced me under the covers of my empty bed. The darkness that kept me tied down underneath the sheets, scared to see what the rest of the day held. I hope tomorrow I can wake up with fixed tea and strudels. I hope tomorrow the sun rises early in the am and the moon falls perfectly under the stars.

I have come to a conclusion. The conclusion to all my worries. To my pain and my curiosity. I will not be good enough. I will ask you for your assurance. I will beg you to let me stay. I would never leave. They leave me. They run fleeing as quick as their feet may carry them... broken photo frames and torn love letters. I was just hoping you would stay...