The breeze sifted through the trees,
And the leaves started to fall.
A shower of orange, red, and yellow,
Littering the forest floor.
Summer had came to a close,
And autumn was here.

let's go to a coffee shop.
pour out our secrets
and let them blow away with the wind,
finding you a year later
when you sit down again.

forget about that week before you left.
when you lost all hope,
and we stopped being friends.

forget about the time when you came back,
and kissed her in front of me,
over and over again.

forget about
whatever happened to us,
because I still miss you.
And even though you don't want to
I can see in your eyes that you do
and that you're sorry.

Even though you don't want to,
let's sit down and pretend
that nothings changed.
That you were still that sweet boy
who spent a whole month
trying to make me happy again
after I fell apart.

Let us go back
to sitting in coffee shops,
teasing each other
while listening
to bad poetry.

Crawl out of that shell
you've run away to
so that we can go back
to being friends.

If i should have a daughter ,

instead of "Mom,"

she's gonna call me "Point B,"  

because that way she knows that no
matter what happens,

at least she can always find her way to
me.

And I'm going to paint solar systems
on the backs of her hands  

so she has to learn the entire universe

  before she can say, "Oh, I know that
like the back of my hand."  

And she's going to learn

that this life will hit you hard in the
face,

wait for you to get back up just so it
can kick you in the stomach.

But getting the wind knocked out of
you

is the only way to remind your lungs
how much they like the taste of air.

There is hurt, here,

that cannot be fixed by Band-Aids or
poetry.

So the first time she realizes

that Wonder Woman isn't coming,

I'll make sure she knows

she doesn't have to wear the cape all
by herself

because no matter how wide you
stretch your fingers,

your hands will always be too small

to catch all the pain you want to heal.

Believe me, I've tried

"And, baby," I'll tell her,

don't keep your nose up in the air like
t hat.

I know that trick; I've done it a million
times.

You're just smelling for smoke

so you can follow the trail back to a
burning house,

so you can find the boy who lost
everything in the fire

to see if you can save him.

Or else find the boy who lit the fire in
the first place,

to see if you can change him."

But I know she will anyway,

so instead I'll always keep an extra
supply

of chocolate and rain boots nearby,

because there is no heartbreak that
chocolate can't fix.

Okay, there's a few heartbreaks that
chocolate can't fix.

But that's what the rain boots are for,

because rain will wash away
everything, if you let it.

I want her to look at the world

through the underside of a glass-
bottom boat,

to look through a microscope

at the galaxies that exist

on the pinpoint of a human mind,

because that's the way my mom
taught me.

That there'll be days like this.

♫ There'll be days like this, my
momma said. ♫

When you open your hands to catch

and wind up with only blisters and
bruises;

when you step out of the phone
booth and try to fly

and the very people you want to save

are the ones standing on your cape;

when your boots will fill with rain,

and you'll be up to your knees in
disappointment.

And those are the very days you have
all the more reason to say thank you.

Because there's nothing more
beautiful

than the way the ocean refuses to stop
kissing the shoreline,

no matter how many times it's sent
away.

You will put the wind in winsome, lose
some.

You will put the star

in starting over, and over.

And no matter how many land mines
erupt in a minute,

be sure your mind lands

on the beauty of this funny place
called life..

And yes, on a scale from one to over-
trusting,

I am pretty **** naive.

But I want her to know that this world
is made out of sugar.

It can crumble so easily,

but don't be afraid to stick your
tongue out and taste it.

"Baby," I'll tell her, "remember, your
momma is a worrier,

and your poppa is a warrior,

and you are the girl with small hands
and big eyes

who never stops asking for more."

Remember that good things come in
threes

and so do bad things.

And always apologize when you've
done something wrong,

but don't you ever apologize

for the way your eyes refuse to stop
shining.

Your voice is small, but don't ever stop
singing.

And when they finally hand you
heartache,

when they slip war and hatred under
your door

and offer you handouts on street-
corners

of cynicism and defeat,

you tell them that they really ought to
meet your mother.

"The way you work
is so messy"
as paints lay all
around,
bits of paper
tacked, taped
in shapes
five shades
of blue
stain my arms
"And your pieces are so...
unclean, undefined"
I laughed a little
and replied
"Just like
life."

you are a beautiful creature
the stars light up in your eyes
and i can tell that you left so much behind
are you afraid of the dark
or are you afraid of the light
because sometimes the day is much more dangerous than the night

but please, keep saying the words you say
keep on taking my breath away

i can see it in your eyes
they are filled with fireflies
but maybe
if i look a little bit closer
i can see your pain
i will never ask you why
you are holding it inside
but maybe
if you know that i am here
you'll think again
and then you'll know you've got a friend