When you did what you did,
I tied my hair back and rolled cuffs into my jeans.
I put on my work boots and started to pick up the pieces of myself that you spent all that time chipping away at.
I let myself look at each one, giving myself time.
It's hard to remember where everything went, but I tried my best.

There were days that I'd sit in the middle of it all and let it overwhelm me. There were days I would pretend you were still here, chipping comfortably away.

I didn't know it'd take so long. I didn't know it'd hurt so much.

But with my sleeves pushed back, I worked and I learned. I learned how to take care of my broken pieces. How to treat them gently and lovingly, even when I felt I had no more love left in me.

I don't know exactly when it happened, but it did.

You did what you did, and I did what I had to.

And suddenly I am whole again.

they sat at the second table from the left.
four girls; one with curly hair to her knees, one with a heart for running, and two who love basketball.
I tried to fit in.
I failed.
a poet is not a dancer.
a poet is not a runner.
a poet is not a basketball player.
a poet is a poet.
I hated this table.
it gave me chills.
I walk past the table, because they cannot hurt what isn't in their reach.

I don't have galaxies in my blood stream. I'm insignificant and small.
I have nebulas in my eyes and asteroids inside me. Meaning I am nothing but stories that people want to know but I will never tell.
I speak in constellations with no connections yet I still tend to sound poetic. I spit planets because I get bored easily, and have 0 gravity zipping through my blood because I'm so bad at staying in one place and I am sorry. I am so sorry.

i don't know her name..
i just see her pour water into the river..
she then stands in the shallows with her umbrella..
she looks away into a place that she knows exist..

i don't know her name..
i just hear her hum a melody sweet..
makes the river flow..
as she looks away into a place that she knows exist..

i don't know her name..
i just see her hair dance in the wind..
she spins her umbrella left to right..
as she looks away into a place that she knows exist..

i don't know her name..
i just see her stand in the shallows under a lone black cloud..
rain falls on her umbrella and into the river..
as she looks away into a place that she knows exist..

i don't know her name..
i just wrote a poem about her..
a memory a dream..
someone real, someone created, in a place i know that truly exist..