I'll take up smoking
     because it will bring warmth to my lungs, worn from lamenting,
& I'll learn to play the acoustic guitar,
     because the songs of its strings resonate reminiscently with the sound of your voice.
I'll lose sleep in waiting
     for your greetings & goodbyes,
& I'll find strength in old messages
     (old memories)
     you once felt desire to send.
[one day I'll learn, & I'll secure myself in place.]
---
you'll grow tall in your heart,
     because you do not yet know the love of which you are capable,
& you'll lose hope sometimes,
     because there are still so many mistakes to be made.
you'll eat late in the evenings,
     because you've got so many better things to do,
& you'll eventually forget that these years,
     (these moments,)
     don't last forever.
[one day, you'll learn, & you'll fly.]
---
& we, like the tide,
     will rise & fall.
we'll say hello on occasion,
     but never goodbye.
we'll find vices to fill our gaps,
     (because the summer is over, my love)
     & the sun is setting on our time.
& some day, we'll learn, & we'll migrate in bittersweet peace.

Yesterday was a little more close to comfortable.
There was one wispy white cloud, three black birds placed in a triangle just beneath it, and a cool breeze on top of a beaming sun.
I only got slightly sunburned.

After getting angry over dropping my pocket-filled distraction into the pool
I let the day take what it wanted;
dismissing it as something that was supposed to happen.

I leaned back
dipped my pink toes into the luke warm water: the kind that feels like it's been filled up by a faucet and cooled off with just a few ice cubes--
and read The Decameron

I only paid attention to the giggles of the blonde girls in bright bathing suits for a moment
before letting my mind drift as I made secret travel plans for tomorrow.

One little window
in
my tiny dorm
room.
To watch the sun rise
and then
sleep

Makes me miss my tree house windows
untoasted bagels
for breakfast
And a textbook
for a friend--
Thomas's 12th edition

One little
Window.
That keeps me sleeping
Until
noon.

One little window.
That keeps me
so concealed.

One little window
That makes me miss home.

14 and so naïve
I could have sworn
you were the one
made for me.

It was like happy was bursting upwards
and pushing on the inside of my cheeks--
a smile.
Not hardly forced

Cleaning up the mess of past years from the carpets
In my Hawaiian themed bedroom
half lime green, half baby blue
and all Haley.

I sent you a simple apology
for kicking your feelings
and hurting your heart

A part of me knew we weren't through
the day we had finished.
When your best friend kissed me
at the top of a closed in stairwell

I guess I'd missed that feeling
where your fingertips tingle
at the tiniest touch.

You wrote back
with open arms
even with that stomped up heart

You asked what my favorite day of summer had been
foolishly,
I'd responded “this one”

Back when we knew everything.
When parents taught us nothing
and schooling,
even less

I'd missed you
the brown eyes I'd been in love with,
more so--
infatuated with.

I didn't plan
just played games
that felt sincere.
Toyed with hearts
that felt like home.

I don't know how you did,
or why,
but I sent you an apology
and you replied.

It's been a long while
but I've no trace of time.

I'm covered in brown mud,
piled over with rusty
red and orange leaves.

I lay at the foot
of what now,
is an old friend.

It's not easy
to get much sunshine
the large Oak's roots
are what both isolate
and keep my company.

I'd been loved
a long while
but that story
is an old life lived
a memory
that became a fantasy
time stretched
until it's bonds broke.

They tried
to recover me,
for a short while
for something
that mirrored
commitment
at such a young
and impressionable
age.

They hunted
in and out
of trunks
of the large Oak's home
never to find
where I lay.

Embedded
in October's leaves.

Yet,
distance
didn't make
the heart grow
fonder.

I'd been lost
and long forgotten
at the brink of dusk,
at the ring
of a more warming
love.

They came back,
once or twice,
to test
the shaded wood,
the darkened dirt.

They came back
until leaves
covered me
eye-high.

If they were still yelling
for the track of my presence
I could no longer hear them.

Even if
they were still scouring
built-down woods,
I could no longer
see them
allow them
to catch my eye.

Even if they still loved me
I could no longer feel them
covered
by cracked dirt,
and crumpled leaves.

The roots
had become my lover
now
grown to hug
my rounded hips
my heaping
dirt-covered
smile.

The wind
doesn't play with me
much
only to allow
a sweeping
kiss of leaves,
or to pick
the dirt coat
from my back
and donate
to a better cause
the warming
of a seed
that tiny
Christmas Rose.

I quit
listening
long after
I quit
looking,
looking for the boys
that had once
loved me.

Only then
did he come
sticky handed,
dressed in metal,
and armed
to save
a princess.

Engrossed
in his enactment,
poking swords
at my Oak
demanding
emptied branches
release
his Rapunzel,
I saw him
catch glimpse
of my rounded edges.

I
didn't notice
until
I looked up
into those
adventurous
eyes.

He knelt,
gigantic
in young age,
he plucked me
easily
from my big
Oak roots.

He wiped
dirt
from my body
slowly
and softly
like I was
new-found
treasure
Like I was
the gold
every child
hunts for
in their own
back yard.

He ran
his rough thumbs
on my edges
never lifting
his eyes
from his fingers
on that short
walk home.

He rinsed me clean
under
warmed water,
wondered
about my stories
then dusk came.

I was tucked
warm
under his protection
under that imaginative
mind,
and the boy
made me his own.