i am so tired, but so not tired.
i have grown tired of it.
i am walking away from sharpness
sliding into an embrace
there's no time for hardness
i dreamt i was a sunflower of forgiveness
i'm following my dreams
i'm bending cliches
i don't give a ****
i am so tired, but so not tired
i am ready
im quitting
im starting
im running back to you
away from it
again
try again
go
don't forget
rest
comes
remember rest comes.

it's been a while since i picked up a pen,
since i picked myself out of this rut i'm in.

i'm starting to think maybe i'm not cut out for this. maybe life is just too much for me too juggle. like playing guitar is too much for my small hands. maybe i was never meant to play this song.

i could never write enough apologies that say,
i'm sorry you love me
i'm sorry that i love him.

there was a time when i could feel you through the miles
and despite it all my heart felt warm with the thought of you
but now i feel like the distance has doubled
and i feel so far away
from you
and from everyone else

there was a time when your words were enough
whispering that im the only one, your favorite girl
but after all the hours that pass between your apologetic updates
i doubt that i matter
to you
or to anyone else

words are not enough.

you're my least favorite tea but i drink you anyway.

i never wanted this

it was never my idea

i only did what you asked of me.

you closed every door i tried to open,

i tried to take us somewhere new

but every time you locked me out

then sliped me a key that doesn’t work

and in the end i got desperate

‘cause old friends screamed at me ‘let go’

i never wanted to do it

but you told me to so boldly

and watched me trembling over my words,

looking for one last answer.

you told me to end it like it was over,

like i had already done it.

please know i never asked for this

this was never my idea

i tried to salvage what you severed

and piece it back together.

and now it’s all scattered

in songs and faded scenes

and though most of me is cold and weeping

some still arranges all the parts like a puzzle

desperately

hoping

that it’s not actually forever.

i mumbled under the covers, my misery in words not as sharp
and spun on my back through tears of remorse
because i made
countless
mistakes
i screamed internally the insecurity that was building day after day
and rolled my regret up like quarters, getting heavier and heavier
then i lied
to myself
again
i woke up to shady memories of a sorry self-conscience
and i was pulled out of bed with a force not my own
then i cried
to myself
in the car
you showed me the things that brought back smiles
and sang with me in the corner
so that i
felt light
again
you sat me down gently, you spoke through my hair
and you told me not to worry
that death
could not
take me
you showed me the middle, where i stood then,
and nodded behind me before pointing forward  
so i knew
which way
to go

i miss you like a cigarette, and you were no good for me too.

shaded windows and broken mirrors
gliding paper, too soft to hear
you're on the bed
rambling off words
but i'm clinging to the corner
trying not to be heard
sick with shallow breathing
scared that i will faint
i didn't want you to see me
so i asked if you could leave
but you were slow and wouldn't go
so i headed for the door
but when i turned the corner
i couldn't see anymore.

i wish you would wake up and tell me what the ******* meant last night.

i’m glad.
i’m sorry.
me too.
i’ve known.
i didn’t.
you don’t have to.
maybe I shouldn’t-

i like to watch the leaves change color
just like the old woman we met
with the shabby shoes
but you don't have to seek sadness
to make the summer feel warmer
and carnival laughs sound louder,
the winter will always be cold enough
and september thunder frightening,
so remember to wear
your coat.

we are drawing circles in the sand
trying to make sense of the birds that flutter in our heads.
like those sandbox cities we used to live in,
we are all fine grained
and we all jump rope,
hoping to jump just high enough,
hoping to laugh,
freely in the company of swinging ponytails,
eager like the boy to just learned how to snap.
show me all the stones you hold in your hand,
tell me the stories that come with them.
let's chase hummingbirds;
let's run slowly.
wind 'round this back line dirt trail.
out of illusion,
into harmony;
hum with me.
i like the messy songs we make-
hide these folded letters in your socks.
we could run on words,
you know.
we could run on words.

there are three sounds filling my ear
you hear two
there are five circles 'round your head
you know one
you are so much all inside this figure
this figure that dances-waltzes
in attentive carelessness
teach me how-
how to hear just the beat and your breath
down- helicopter chopping my composure
up- your hand leading my hip, your finger lifting my chin
up- eyes steady on each other
down, up-up. down, up-up. down, up-up.
you've always called me a better dancer,
maybe the better dancer would know it's all about the moment
you live there so well
show me how to not be swept up by worries- what might be.
teach me not to get my toes in a tangle
guide me by those even breaths...
*down, up-up. down, up-up. down, up-up. down.

sometimes I see you, lost in books, and films, in deep conversations, searching for the theme, finding how it fits, or even how it doesn't, and why. sometimes you exhaust yourself, but that's alright, because you don't stop until it's finished, until you know. I like you best when you're searching, there is a fire in your eyes. you listen more closely, and you broaden your perspective. but it's okay to be calm at times, it's okay to remember all that you've discovered. sometimes you don't have to read, or talk. sometimes I like you best when you rest in your bedroom, waiting for the theme to come and writing it down for next time.

the moon told me a secret
about a night
years ago
when you were still a kid that wore sneakers
and let the grass paint your knees
he told me about the night
when your tin can phone didn't work
when there must have been too many green beans
stuck inside
because no one came when you called
the moon told me summers later
when your bike's tire went flat
going over the train tracks
and you had to walk the whole south block
to find your dog dead at home.
the moon told me how you learned to be alone
but that you never learned to like it,
he told me of the time that you woke in the night
and ran into the lake while you cried
because the dreams you loved always vanished
the moon told me stories from all the years before i met you,
all the times i wish i was around for you.
time is one of two enemies
and clock hands only turn one way
but i never want you to forget
that as long as i live, and maybe sometime after,
i will be on the other end of your tin can phone,
and you can tell me your dreams before memory fails
and i'll walk all eleven blocks with you,
i'll dry your clothes stained with lake water
i'll eat the crust of your sandwich
and finish stories when your eyes grow tired,
we'll learn how not to be alone together
and i hope that we like it.

some days are spent writing poetry
and others are a sum of passed hours
that you wished you could remember what words were for
and the person you used to be before
the fear set in
before you learned how to spell disappointment
some times i lay in the field
and try to replay those nameless songs
we all sang during childhood
some times i can hear a few lines
there is a tune i learned only a year ago
that has you in every chord
i think i listen to it too often
maybe not often enough
decisions look like a candle's flame
and i don't know how to still a subject
last tuesday i might have felt at peace
but then i thought i saw another piece of the puzzle
so i started to rescramble the letters
you said that i look brighter lately
but you haven't seen me in days
i'm having trouble keeping my bulbs clean
i'm having trouble seeing where this is going
i can hear you in that silly piano theme
saying something like 'you never really have to worry
you only have to watch'
some days i like to see the rainstorms
but some of the time the wind is too loud
some days i think i can only be myself sometimes
but you never thought that was true

counting on clothes pins
how long I can stand
to see you across the fence
and not climb over,
risking the sting of the barbed wire.
I'd do it, you know.
I'd do it for you,
cut all my corners
and leave all of my things,
but you told me
'be patient, and always sing'
and I do and you listen,
and you smile so broadly.
I wait and you wave
and we live inside the folds of two page notes
we pass though the tiny holes
in the far side of the fence.

like the two dimes in my wallet
i counted the days i have felt lonely in my life-
only twice
maybe thats not right  
maybe all my time
today i doubted if you miss me at all
paced the room like i could walk to you
drove 'cross town like it would matter
cried like i'd feel better
do you know it scares me how much i love you?
it scares me that i love you at all
it scared me that you might always
be far away.

like the two dimes in my wallet
i counted the days i have felt lonely in my life-
only twice
maybe thats not right  
maybe all my time
today i doubted if you miss me at all
paced the room like i could walk to you
drove 'cross town like it would matter
cried like i'd feel better
do you know it scares me how much i love you?
it scares me that i love you at all
it scares me that you might always
be far away.