i sit on my porch
after stumbling home
from nights of drinking
and smoking and nameless
faces all contributing to the
reckless reputation of today's
teens. it's cold, i'm cold,
everything is humming and  
buzzing and now i'm cold and
scared. my fingers are twitching
and i can feel the bubbling in
my stomach, i'm anxious to call
you because you're warm and
that's all i want right now.
you are the boy i tell about
my fascination with clouds
and my dream of being an
astronaut if i was smart enough,
and then you say i am smart enough.
i pretend not to hear it.
you are the boy who laughs
when i stumble over my
words and waits patiently
while i ramble on about what
i see while walking home.
you are the only boy i've cried
both to and about.
and while i hiccup and tell
you how sorry i am to wake
you up at one in the morning,
you just "it's fine, i was awake anyway."
we both know you weren't.
and when i hang up and
stare out at the ocean,
all the cold has melted away
and i don't feel so small anymore.
you.
my warmth.
my own personal sun.