Half full.
Half empty.

Thank God
For this

Glass.

you are a seventeen year old girl.
you have blonde and brown hair.
you drive and old truck.

you are a girl that cries at night.
you are a girl that lost a wonderful man.
you are a girl that deserves the world.
scratch that,
you deserve the universe.

I am a girl who loves the girl I am writing about.

we are just two girls looking for our place
in this world.

in the beginning
everything was sweet like the tea you sipped.
it was sweet like that little Lhasa puppy we brought home.

in the beginning
everything was forever like the car rides to new boston.
it was forever like supper on an empty tummy.

in the end
everything is dark like that day you left.
it is dark like my chest.

in the end
nothing is certain.
nothing is how it was
in the beginning.

you always had such beautiful hair.
so short and honey blonde.  
every night you took your hair off
and I did not know why.
but underneath your hair
you had more hair.
your secret hair was long
brittle and thin.
it was silver, white, and grey.
you never showed your secret hair,
it was always wound tightly in a little bun.
I never saw that secret hair much
until you got sick.
you stopped wearing your honey blonde hair
as much.
I started to love your secret hair.
in the end,
it wasn't so secret after all.