even the wind brushes your hair the perfect way

You're going to keep hurting yourself by trying to fit other people's heart pieces into yours.

Hello old friend.
It’s been so long.
You look good.
How have you been?
Your family? Sister? Brother?
You look so good.
Your voice sounds so lovely.
It’s lower than I remember,
and your face,
though still handsome as I remember,
your face is longer
than I remember.
It’s only been a few short years but,
you seem older.
I know that sounds redundant.
Has corporate life gotten the best of you?
I love you too dear friend.
Your skin used to be so golden.
Radiant.
Go outside more.
Remember the countless hours we spent on the lake?
I do. You glowed then.
Where have you been?
I’ve missed our talks,
our time spent simply being young.
We were so young. Do you remember?
I’m still so young.
Responsibility has made you forget.
Have another beer!
It will help you remember.
My dear friend, you look so good but
I’m afraid you’re not.
What are you hiding behind those eyes?
I can hardly hold your stare.
Smile for me. Let me know that you’re good.
You don’t seem as happy as I remember.
My dear friend, what happened to your light?
Where has it gone?
Where have you gone?
Come back to me.
Come back to you.

Is it too much to ask for respect towards eachother?
Is it too much to accept eachother for who he or she is?
Is it too much to ask to stop all the namecalling and to stop making fun of people about their looks?
Is it too much to just treat eachother in a normal way?
I'm not the best-looking, cutest, funniest, most interesting guy, I found that out a long time ago.
And just when I reach the point of loving myself just a little bit, someone comes and knocks the foundation from right under me.
Is it really too much to help eachother build a foundation, instead of breaking it down?

We hate good-byes, yet we say it too often. After a phone call. After a visit. When classes end. When we leave a restaurant. Perhaps these tiny good-byes are said too much to prepare us for the greater good-byes of the future.

But isn't it just strange how the things we hate are often what our mouths are full of? And with the same mouth we whisper the sincerest 'I love you's'.

We love. And the ones we love leave or the love we have leaves us as time passes by. Perhaps it is not good-byes we hate. Perhaps good-byes, themselves, aren't painful at all. 'Cause maybe it is the loving that we hate but we never truly admit it. 'Cause maybe all along we knew, with loving comes good-byes, and that idea is what's painful.

When the elephant's-ear in the park
Shrivelled in frost,
And the leaves on the paths
Ran like rats,
Your lamp-light fell
On shining pillows,
Of sea-shades and sky-shades,
Like umbrellas in Java.

i've never let go of your hand, even when you don't have the strength to hold mine