hey fire.
your burning up the wrong forest.
mrs. fire, why do you burn low when you look at me?
i see you, fire, flicker and stutter
and god, you look like you're about to die.
don't go out because of a whispered wind.
my little words aren't meant to be so harsh.
your warmth will help us all to mend
so strike a spark,
light a match
please, you bonfire of a woman alight!
you are the light of my life!
both my sisters
ive realized
are so bright
your fire and shes sunlight  
but.. then what am i?

i need to stop looking at you
as if you aren't made of skin and bones
i idolize you
as if you're made of chocolate, and coffee
and caramel and honey.
you are music and the deeper tones of life.
you are smoke and sleep and lies
you are beauty and starlight
as confusing as a birds cry
because i don't know if you are
negative or positive
a giggle or a scream
you are a mystery
but forgetting you,
that idea is history
because you're my hobby.
you are my foremost thought.
and im tired of not knowing you
so whether you are lovely or not
i will find out
i will take the chance
and see if your kisses run too hot.

i love more things than boys.
-i like waking up on a Saturday morning
and watching the sunlight dance around my room.
i like breathing in the crisp clean morning air
then snuggling back to sleep inside my warm blanket palace.
-i like walking down my stairs on said Saturday morning and smelling waffles
and hearing my dad laugh and sing zz top and then hotel California.
i like hearing him try hard to decide between the sound of silence and the beach boys while sizzling bacon on the stove.
i like hearing my mom shuffle zombie-like into the kitchen and make eyes at the full coffee ***, and then at my dad- who lovingly filled it for her.
listening to their banter as my sunlight-filled-angel-kissed little sister wakes up and lathers butter on every last pancake.
i like being a part of them, being the bacon eater and the quiet listener, the new train of thought in this bright loud space.
i like more than just boys.
i like my life
and i do not need male hands
and my lack of sleepy bedroom eyes to define my life.
im worth more than the constant want of something i've never had.
my dad, the myth-busters enthusiast and pancake flipper is the biggest testament to that fact.
because of them i can never forget that i'm happy.

im thankful
for blankets, microwaves
and dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets.
you say your thankful
for trees, air, sleep and turkey
and i say im thankful for my dog
and then you say your thankful for microwaves, too.
and then i say
im thankful for you.
and you pause-
then you smile
and you say
*and you too.

every night i wait for your goodnight
just so i can go to sleep
even though it makes my arms feel weak
with sadness
-because we sleep in different beds
-that i wont be able to talk to you again until tomorrow
and ill wait all day tomorrow
just to see you for 30 minutes
and sit next to you in silence
because we're different in person
im a different person
when you're around.