she worried about everything
the weather and her outfit
whether or not she packed enough food for lunch or too much

and she worried about him

she worried about his health and how he drove after a night with friends
she worried about his lungs and his teeth and his brain
and what her dad would say when she came home smelling like smoke and
worried that he wouldn't have enough time with her

she loved him
thought of him as this supernova that had just opened up in front of her
this great expanse of opportunity and future and present and everything she's hoped for

and so she worried about him until she did not eat
worried until she all she wanted to do was sleep so she didn't have to worry about worrying about him.

but he was the best thing I had ever worried about.

be strong be weak be what you'd like. nonetheless you will still be human and you will still be unsteady, visible, tangible.
when the goings get hard and the wind seems to be tearing through brittle bones
say to the face of the sky that "I am not afraid! I am not afraid!".
the sun might dim a little and the birds will fall from the sky until nothing exists besides a sighing moon.
some say that when you grow older you grow wiser but maybe it's better to be curious and oblivious, always questioning, always wondering.
say to the others that "The world has been tough but I've been tougher" when they ask you why you are bitter, why you are sad.
expensive things will get you far if you have the money to spend but a velvet lampshade covers the same amount of light as a heavy heart, keep that in mind.
being bruised and battered makes you look used and abused and it seems like being tarnished was never a good look.
and people fall and stand and fall and stand again, but staying down was never a bad thing when it came to war and peace, sport and game.
a bruise is a flowering of contained pain, internal bleeding, concentrated blemish that spreads amongst dim-witted people.
visit me when i'm old and grey and wrinkled and tired and yelling at the top of my lungs "I'mnotafraidI'mnotafraidI'mnotafraid!" slurring and shivering.
the most exquisite thing about a  a person is their inane idea that they were prepared for the moment when the shades draw and the moon smiles sadly at their watery eyes.
the lull of the ocean will be enough to push you into sleep.

If I'm to die
I want my paintings all burned
And my pictures all torn

Because to remember someone like me
Is small and meager in comparison to what the world holds

If I'm to die
I do not want you to cry
I do not want you to mourn the loss

Because my eyes never shined as bright as yours
And I couldn't smile as often as I'd like to

If I'm to die
I do not want to fear the aftermath
I wish the people who knew me well

Because I loved them all and I wish them to forget
That I ever existed

that i do not miss you
would be a lie
because i still find you in the trees
and in the new blades of spring grass

to say that my heart does not hurt
would be a lie
for it aches sometimes
with the knowledge we will not speak again

to say that i wish to forget you
would be a lie
because remembering makes me stay away
from your broken smile

but to say that i still want you
would be the biggest lie of them all
for i have found that the shade of your eyes can be found in other things
and your smile can be matched with a storm

A bird does not fly because it wishes to get away
It flies because of the sole fact it has to in order to survive

Why must we think that flying is only to get away?
To escape and be gone?

When in fact, we could see ourselves flying in order to live.
Only then, can we think of being unchained from the ground.

A fox sweeps through the pool of light cast from the kitchen window
A soft woosh following the empty air

The trees are telling the sleeping birds secrets that the birds will never keep

The floodlight on the neighbors garage flickers nonchalantly
Wayward branches waking it

A car drives up the street, motor mumbling complaints about the cold
The driver holding a cigarette between *******

The streetlamp shivers in the stiff breeze
Light swaying over the ice-tarnished pavement

A stray cat tumbles across the driveway, swift feet tripping sensors
The floodlight comes on

And the house is sleeping
Groaning and shifting and snoring and sighing

The floodlight flickers then clicks off

The sky

The sky looks so sad
A mix of sleet and grey snow
Falling in parallel lines and diagonal lines and
Blowing into the cracks of the shed door

And the pattering of this sleet
Resonates in my head
Like a distant memory that wants to resurface
But can't bring itself to cry

I can't remember what the sun feels like on bare skin
And bare legs and bare arms
The rays of UV poison soaking into pores and crevices of swim suites
Like the leaking of water through the cracks of the road

And you are laying next to me on the bed
A shaft of sunlight slanted across your cheek
Outlining the bridge of your nose and

The gentle curve of your bottom lip is like the ***** of a ski run
Ongoing and smooth and dangerous and daunting
And I want to conquer it