He couldn’t even finish a bowl of sorbet—he said it was “too sweet” for him.

Little did he know—he was too sweet for the cruel world he was born into.

Palm trees and mountains occupy my mind.

You are all palm trees,
neatly lined up in a row,
swaying together,
adapting when needed.

I am a mountain,
plastered against the sky,
only noticed from afar,
an unchangeable monument.

I observe the palm trees swaying in perfect unison,
and know I’ll forever be a distant sight.

I get us each one more scoop of ice cream.
You’re full but try to eat it anyway.

It’s things like this I’ll miss,
you shoveling in food simply because
it’s the last thing we’ll eat together.

As I’m shutting the car door,
my mind screams for me to stop.

I scoop out the thought and leave it on the pavement—
along with my fears that you won’t come back.

All I can do now is trust that God will protect you,
as my heart is scooped, clean out of my chest.

3 years in the making:

3 years you’ve cared for me

I hope I did the same for you

3 years you made me laugh

With our dumb jokes and antics

3 years I’ve thought of you

When seeing cottage cheese clouds

3 years I’ve called you

When I had something important to say, good or bad

3 years you made amazing

Simply with your presence

3 years you’ve tried to pay for me

And I’ve stubbornly refused

3 years I’ve watched you

Grow up into a man

3 years you showed me

What the love of God looks like, unconditional and unfailing

3 years of goofy photos

That I will never delete

3 years that you and I made millions of mistakes

And I wouldn’t change a single one

Because my favorite moments comprise those 3 years

And I would wait another 3 for just 1 more

You spent so much time preserving your youth that you forgot to use it.

The future worries me:
all of the unknown possibilities.
Indecision overcomes my mind,
at the time I most need it precise.

I even cried tonight,
looking at a list of courses:
mystifying options that I may not have
if I can’t write the essay right
or get the shiniest recommendations.

So I am worrisome,
for the next month and year.

I am worrisome because I want nothing more
than to be part of that place,
and to belong among those people.

He remembered a detail—
just one.

And somehow that was enough…

to make up for everything he forgot.