one day
when the sunlight
stops playing hide and seek
with the clouds

i will set down my worn out pen
and stop scribbling about you
the tears streaming down my cheeks
will not be for your benefit

someday
as the trees
shed their leaves
the color of the summer sunset

my pen's ink will have dried up
and my sappy poems brown at the edges
i have learned to pick myself up
one discolored piece at a time

as the waves
start to calm
and the tides
start to quiet down

i start scribbling
i start scribbling about happiness
about how the stars are all in place
and how i have taped and colored in
my once shattered heart

every morning i wake up
aching

eyes closed
i count out my fingers
and toes

still there when i open
my eyes i know

it is you
that is missing

my lungs were filled with you
and i did not want to breathe out
until i remembered that i needed air to survive

sorry for staring at you all the time and laughing too loud and having a shaky voice when you tell me beautiful words that weren't made for people like me

this whole fake it till you make it thing is really getting old because I am at least 600 different types of not okay right now and "making it" is the least of my worries

wherever we land, there will always be this day
where I turn off the song of my sadness, and your shame,
where I stop asking what all the crying has been about
all I know is my name could rust entirely away
in your perfect mouth

but we all change once in a while I guess
that's the scary part.
we're never going to be exactly the way we are in this moment.
constantly changing.
forever discovering and exploring.
we just keep moving and don't stop for anybody.