She keeps songs
locked away in boxes
like secrets.
She will take them out
like postcards
to help her remember
the feeling of
a different time,
a different person
by her side.
She likes the one
that makes her
eyes close
to see the lights.
She smiles at
the one that  
makes her stand
up on tiptoes,
the one that
helps her forget
she doesn’t know
what to do
with her hands.

The tune
will carry her.

Like it did
the times when
voices broke
like a heart.
When instruments’ strings
would snap
and hurt.

You walk away so
easily
makes me wonder why
you don’t just keep on
walking

Vulnerable ain't weak
Hurting ain't broken
Pausing isn't giving up
Tired isn’t beaten

1) a bookstore in May,

2) your apartment in Maine

3) an airport in spring

4) random chinese food place

5) my apartment (2nd floor)

And I stand here on the other side of the lake,
looking at that bridge where we use to meet!
I stand here, feeling the early winter breeze,

listening to your music, I sand here

I stand here as the sun rises on the other side of the lake, I break, my heart aches, I stand here!

Staring at that bridge, imagining your hair dancing to the falling leaves, as their color changes to bring in the winter breeze that you wait for every year

To the left
and to the right
both parties listen up
With out you
both cooperating
I couldn't accomplish much
So to think
we could run a country
without working together
SEEMS DUMB