One. Go to the U-Haul store. They haven't run out of boxes yet. Get a few medium, a few large. Don't forget the tape.

Two. When you begin to pack, start with the largest items first. The blanket you watched the stars with. The letters. The books.

Three. Tape everything down. Don't let anything out. Tape it several times actually. Let him hold the box closed while you tape.

Four. When you can't fit everything in your tiny boxes throw the rest in the car. Pile everything in the trunk. Every photograph, every memory, every good day.

Five. When everything is gone, sweep. Be rid of any crumb, flake, dust, or morsel that remains. Sanitize each surface with antibacterials of course. It must look as if you were never there. We were never there. Now it is empty.

Six. Bring everything to the storage center. Remind him he doesn't need a 10 by 10. Load it in. Lock it shut. Now there are no possessions. Now there is just you.

Seven. Obsess over anything you may have forgotten. Focus on something. Did you get everything? You don't have gloves! You need gloves. Go buy gloves.

Eight. Write him a note. Rewrite it. Write it again. Try to say everything you'll want to say for the next few years. Repeat every memory from the last six months and write them down. Repeat. Make up the ones you'll never get in your head.

Nine. Drive to the airport but don't go inside. Stand on the curb. Give him a mask. Lysol wipes. Gloves. Suitcase. ID. Note.

Ten. Say goodbye. Hold him with every last bone in your body. Cling to his shirt. Try not to cry. Smile. Hold his hand for the last time. Plant a kiss on his lips. Remember his eyes. Draw them in your head. Run your fingers through that new haircut again. Kiss his ears. Kiss his nose. Hold him again.

It is hard to let someone go when you still love them. It is hard to watch conversations dwindle. It is hard to never hear him call you his star. It is harder to watch little pieces of us say goodbye every day. Because while the whole world is six feet apart he is one thousand one hundred and eighteen point five miles from you.

So take down your photos. Put those in a box too. Put away the letters. Fold up his shirts. Don't go to the places you went to together. They're closed anyways.

11. It is hard to let someone go when you still love them. Try not to love them anymore.

He gave me dead flowers
So I can smell them every day
The rotten petals falling
The color of decay

The washed out sunflower
The dehydrated leaves
The mold on the water
The color of debris

The richly red rose
Now drooping to the floor
The color of love
Existed no more

But still I saved the flowers
And smelled them every day
And watered them with tears
To let them grow again.

The vivid embrace danced across my mind.
These reveries were a hint of unreality of the world.
An instinct of indifference.
A product of soft-mindedness.
An infinite number of ramifications.
Yet, he had represented all the beauty.

dead lips notice corroding wishes
french hours singing infinite winters
romanticizing the energy of blaring reasons
sympathetic pieces worn saturated in emptiness
barely feeling broken snowflakes
pinhole breathing, busy restless hours
remembering sleeves of days
ironic twisting into the red of skin,
goodbye thursdays, goodbye nighttime and mondays, goodbye.

I awoke one morning, in the same spot as before. My bones creaked with the pain of staying in the same position, on your shelf with a broken doll and snow globe from last year’s ski trip, waiting, to be remembered.

When you were just a small child I would be on your mind, a game we would play with bare feet and fairy wings, you would close your eyes and say, “When I grow up I want to be… a Unicorn!”

What about our games of hide and seek? I would hide and you could seek, but I’m starting to think we’ve been playing the same round for years, but you quit and never told me.

You started grade school, worked hard and had friends. You were brilliant, a genius inside a tiny girl, you took the hardest math and didn’t care about being a nerd. You’d run with the boys and make them look slow, saying “When I grow up I want to be… a

As the years passed by we talked less and less, the heaviness of life starting to weigh down, I watched life knock the innocence out of your eyes, and push you to the ground, I screamed for you, please, just think about me, just remember, but you never seemed to stop. As the pain melted away and left you alone, bare, exposed, you walked away, still, saying “When I grow up I want to be… Happy.”

Growing up, I found a melancholy spring.
I often lingered in its belly
slept in its warmth
hid in its shadows
cried in its pools

I chose the life of guarded existence
Slipped over the surface of things
hid away in the shadows

Spring turned to summer and fall
melancholy froze in its place
and waited 'til next year
to crawl inside again

As I left the comfort of melancholy
I expected to find love
start from the bottom
look through endless rows
and found no sound but whispers.

Then there was a little stir.

I am generation Z. The post-9/11, children of technology. and
We are the kids that have become used to the idea of terrorism,
We're always told to be in groups of 4 or more and for girls to never go to the bathroom alone.
We may be free but we are held tightly by our fear, our freedom taken so quickly because we are afraid to make a change. We are the group of kids that have something to say but are drowned out by the sirens and the shouts and the prejudice and the too many opinions at once.
we are the kids who lie awake at night wondering why that plane is flying so low overhead. --

Our  hands shake for Boston, Our hearts break for colorado, Our tears fall for Orlando, and texas, and new york, and paris, and syria, and California and America, What are we doing? We have mouths that can speak words but our words do not speak volumes. The united states of America has become the divided states of America as we turn our backs on one another facing the same struggle.
We are Generation Z, the post 9-11, group that has something to say.... and We will not be silenced.


And I live in a world where schools have to have metal detectors.
I live in a world where there is violence on the streets.
I live in a world where bombings are a natural news occurrence and we wake up thinking that a mass shooting is a normal happening in society.
I live in a world where it's not okay to be afraid.
I live in a world where our people are divided based on political affiliations. We live in a world where we are followed by everything even offline with our hands over our ears the sirens can still be heard, and every 911 call echoes in our heads, and every cry for help is never silenced, and we hold our breath when airplanes fly over our heads.
I live in a world where the leader of the free world is no longer free himself.
and
I can sit and wait for the world to change but the world will not sit and wait for me.
United in our states of anxiety yet we stand alone. So far away in the corners of these walls but connected online through far away communications -- We can never get away. Everything follows us. Magnified as the magnitude rises, as every terror threat is followed through, as every muslim hides afraid of discrimination, united we are but alone we stand the united states of america is the divided states of america, and we are the future.
we are generation Z, and we are the future.

You walk into that new shop on the corner. You've never seen it before. It's inviting store windows and beautiful exterior pull you inside. What are they selling?

words.

"How much for this word?" you ask.
"well" says the cashier. "All the words are free, but the value comes in how you use them."
"I don't understand," you say. "How do I use this one?" You hold up the word 'love'.
"Be careful with that one. It's special." says the cashier.
"How many do you have in stock?" you ask.
"Infinite." says the cashier.
You look at him quite confused now, wondering why it's so special if they're all free and there are infinite amounts of them.
"The more you use the words the less valuable they become."
You give him a very puzzled look and begin backing away to the door.
"Where are you going?" he asks. "This is all yours. This whole store is full of your words."
"Just mine?" you ask.
He nods.
"What about your words?" you ask. "Where are they?"
"Oh," he says. "You don't want any of those."
He looks down as if he is studying the back of his hand, his eyes seem to glaze in thought.
"Maybe I do. May I see them?" you ask.
then he tells you,

    "My words are like an old worn out pair of shoes, my words have walked many miles but have been barely noticed, only to wash up onto a beach somewhere and be found a child and a mother telling them not to play with the garbage. I could be screaming the words and it would sound like a whisper, but even a whisper is noticed and told to hush by adults. Whispers float through hallways but are always paid attention to, regardless of their value, but my words are the cold, dead, silence of an empty house and the bottom of a swimming pool."

Unsure of what to say, you give him a sympathetic glance, "I'm sorry."
but right as you say it the words skid off the shelf and shatter onto the floor, and every lie you've ever told piles on top of it, and you realize you are no better than you neighbor, yet--

You try to help him pick up the pieces.
"Leave it," he says. "I thought you were different."
You wonder what it is you did wrong, so you decide to leave.  Just as you're about go, he turns ask you something this time.

"Can you hear me?
I'm talking.

Are you listening?"

I wish I could
give you
one last apology
which is why
maybe
I thought
you wanted me
to leave.

Another word
                                 skids off the edge
                                                            ­            with a dull thud.
Now
                                        there's no one

but I squeeze                                                          ­     my eyes

                        and try not to focus on the things
    
                                                                ­                                          in my head.

10 Things I Wish I Could've Told You...
but never did.

1: I used to fantasize about us listening to that song that always reminded me of you and we'd be laughing and singing and we wouldn't have a care in world except where we were gonna buy our french fries. I'd feel as free as the snowflakes that never fell while we coast down the boulevard.

2: I snuck out of class one time to text you. I thought I was super cool for doing something bad... but then I had to do the entire science experiment with my phone in my jacket sleeve. I came pretty close to lighting it on fire with a bunsen burner, actually.

3: I remember how you could make anything hilarious. Whether it was laughing about overrated jokes from the internet or ironic things we probably shouldn't even be laughing about, you'd turn the situation upside down because that's the way you liked to see the world. You taught me that just looking from another perspective could make the ocean and sky switch places.

4: I lost sleep of worrying about you - I would awake in a cold sweat worried that my biggest nightmare would come true.

5: I would always push accusations of this happening to the back of my mind, but little did I know that when I thought I was protecting you I was really protecting myself.

6: I miss your laugh

7: I miss your smile

8: I miss the way you cared about everyone. Your heart was so big that all the 7 billion people on this earth could have a piece of it, a chance to taste the love and sweetness that resided in there, and when all the sugar saturated in the bottom you always knew how to shake it back up again, but man did they take every last piece. They took it all so that you were left with an emptiness that you had to fill with something else. And you filled it up, but it wasn't with love.

9: I can't live in a world without you

10: You were the first and only person I turned to for a very long time, and you were the only person who I could really trust. You gave me a piece of your heart too, except that I cherished mine. And to this day, I wear your heart on my sleeve.

A busy city with busy people
With dreams and aspirations crammed into 22 sq. miles
The restless hustle and blaring horns
People looking for a life reborn

Keeping their eyes low and walking fast
Cars that always slam on the gas
Every street has a different story, and every story has a different listener.
A tiny world of its own,
But the city keeps getting bigger.

Returning to my routine
And missing the place I'd rather be,
Day in and day out doing the same thing
After moments have become distant memories.

The place I will one day live, won't sit and wait for me,
But I still dream of New York City as the place I want to be.

Broken bottles and crystal powders
So many drugs you'll be high for hours
The corroding building where you go to play
is the only place where your thoughts go astray

Eyes are coated in the eyeliner from yesterday
Prone to exponential decay
Mind shut off the worries and doubts
don't want those thoughts coming out

Untied Converse with a grunge toe
waiting in line for your necessary espresso
A few dollars left but not enough
to get the approaching bus to slow down

You're stuck on the corner long enough for the kind man to give you a ride
You quickly accept and give him a small smile
Unsuspectingly hopped in the car
and closed your eyes to dream
He slams on the brakes at a stop sign and you begin to think
Turning a slight cheek as he gives you a discreet wink, you crack open the door and jump out on the street.

Your alias can't save you now
Popped, Swallowed, and Drowned
Mind to foggy to hold your doubt
swinging your fist as he follows you down
Probably should've thought this one through right about now...

Running and Running as fast as you can
But you tripped on your shoe lace, so he throws you his backhand.
You look down at the asphalt
thinking this is it
you could've saved yourself
but your mouth was too quick.

Cursin' like a sailor
It's okay, right, avail her
Commanding the ship so strongly
you thought you finally had it off me
bullets keep bouncing off me like a trampoline, except this one isn't so fun, you see?

As It hits a slow curve
you seemed to have the nerve
to throw your whole crew overboard
just to save yourself first
the empire state of the south
never got to the party
left with the crumbs in the corner
and your mouth, only clarty

with a quick tongue
and a sly smile
a small smirk
so easy to beguile

Razerblades and Punk madness
colored hair with your tears of passion
brainwashed and bleached
compelled by your freedom of speech
tears so frequent, indecent, and cement
you're looking for my impeachment, what's your reason?

Knuckles hurt from punching pillows
rusting walls and weeping willows
Wanted so badly to be broken
so you tore out stitches

called me coward
but i'm not the one cranking out
poems that have been soured

I live to empower.

Hide the scars
draw a heart
on your arm
take a picture
add a filter
kiss her scars
"stay strong, love"

Only discuss what your feeling,
never share the real meaning
maybe someone will like you if you have bigger problems
joking with yourself when they barely even hit the quantum
Must've wanted to see what was so attractive
Picked up a blade then blamed me after
words are painful
piercingly baneful
Dug a deeper hole so you can bury me, just haphazards,

So immune to what your saying
you lied to me
so focused on what you're really hating
wanted to get into a fight
so you poisoned me at night.
think you're so poetic?
stop it.

It's pretty hard to stay clean
Looking in the mirror is so much harder than it seems
hard to keep on trucking
when your so bloodsucking
your actions are the kind that pull the noose up the tree
I wish it had all been fake
you put your heart out on a plate
for everyone to sample
if only they knew how you're never organically explaining
serving things the people should be disdaining

You have no idea
romanticizing for whoever's listening
when they say your so **** talented, your face must be glistening
You don't understand me
and this life you've created for yourself
writing about a life you know nothing about
how many times do I need to say it to get it in your head
You'll never understand the feeling of waking up
and wishing
you were
dead.

Hide the scars
rip the heart
on my sleeve
take your picture
add that filter
hope you're happy
"stay strong, dear"

When I try to get some energy out
I end up making ironic jokes in my head
To make the layers thicker
And farther from my heart

I find myself
lost in the music
breathing with the wind
and
running from my doubts
forgetting what life's about

The stars above me are always out
every night
shining bright
so why can't I
be my own star
and keep on shining like them?

lost in the music
breathing with the wind
so I'll wake up again

in this moment,
I think I'm going to be okay.

What piece to move next!
Contemplating if I should pick the short route or
the longer, more rewarding one
Twisting into the middle of the board
Where the candy castle lies

About to wave the white flag
But so close to the freedom
The castles right there!
Look at the kids - this game frees them

Laughing without thought
Smiling without pain
So sweet for the time
Too lethal to stay

After much thought
I throw my hands up and say
"I surrender"

I need to tell you this, but I can't
as you won't understand

So I slowly inch in my symptoms over
cereal and milk and between our small talk
As you tell me to put my problems into perspective

I need to tell you this, but I can't
because whenever I unlock that thought
my stomach begins to simmer
threatening to overflow
My skin will crawl and I drift away from where
I am supposed to be
getting lost in the maze again.

I need to tell you this, but I can't
So I tell you the only way I know how,
forcing my lips to create the words,
so mechanical I need pliers to get them out,
but somehow I wish they'd come
spewing like a waterfall from my eyes and lips

and I know it may be hard to see your little girl this way
But I think it's harder to look myself in the mirror and tell myself
I'm okay.

Back to the Speedway,
The gas is $1.91
The food is cheap

Where my daddy
Buys cigars to chew on

The cashier
Is so high
He forgets what day it is

And wishes us a 'Merry Christmas'
On July 31st.

Every time I press send
I feel relieved
That someone is there
Willing to talk to
Me.

Every time I press send
I'm terrified of what you may think of me
This time
But you calm my nerves
With your soothing words.

Every time I press send
A new layer is unfolded
Another present is unwrapped
As you are even more complex than I.

Every time I press send
You become my dose of Prozac
Even though I may be bothering you
Am I abusing this drug?

Every time I press send
Another tear falls from my face
Because I was desperate
And you still stayed there.

Every time I press send
I know
You are the only one to understand
me.

Every time I press send
I am reminded of how
you left me.
You should come with a trigger warning
When rereading our conversations
At midnight,
The guilt keeps crawling up my chest
With no one left to push it away for me,
I know what's in the box in my closet
Just a few feet away,
DO IT, YOU WILL FEEL SO MUCH BETTER, RIGHT?
But I didn't.
Because of you.
and now
i am a l o n e
again.

because

Every time I pressed send
I was reminded of how
I loved you.
So maybe that is why I
Now find myself
pressing
delete.