you're new
you're musical
you're cultured
you're talented
You watch movies in Russian
You listen to fleet foxes
You're shy
You danced with me
After your friend asked if I wanted to because you were nervous
You said you thought it was implied that you liked me
So did I
Until I heard about Isabel
You said you thought you liked her
But now you do not
I know I don't know you that well
But you're beautiful
And ****
And artistic
You're two years older and a senior
I'm a sophomore
You're leaving in 5 months to live in France
A continent away
You're perusing music in Lyon with Joseph I'm staying in Minnesota
I have to finish two more years of school
If you asked me to run away and join you creating music in France I'd probably say yes
I'd emancipate myself
I'd love to write music forvever
I'd love to admire your jaw and your teeth and your eyes, your hair and smile
I think most everything about you would work in our favor
Your friend Chad thinks we'd make a good couple
I think Chad is sweet
I think you're sweet
I know I'm sad that if I fall in love with you
And you leave me
I'll have a wasted broken heart
And that you will become a memory
I hope you do such great things
I want to live

I'm listening to the radio my dad turned on, his mom is dying.
I understand his sadness and need for comfort, I lay on the couch and he sits on the kitchen stool.
Neither of us talk, I have a documentary playing about a girl who was kidnapped.
A commercial plays on the radio and my dad takes a bite of toast.
I intended to write about you. I wrote about you earlier, I wrote how if you died I'd die.
We've already decided we'll die together

You said I took your heart, threw it to the curb and stomped on it

I don't know what to tell you.
Besides the most platonic I love you I can muster.

Because I do love you and nothing has ever been as important to me.
I guess this isn't about dying grandmothers or the sound of crunching toast coming from a sad mans mouth.
I guess this is about you, but then again, what isn't?

she tasted like imported sophistication and domestic cigarettes

Shore lines cross poor minds,
Leaving empty space and tierd haste,
Uncovering what's left of the human race,
Adults will cry what a waste,
As we all try to keep face,
Left this world without a trace.

The sun rises and empties it's soft morning light into your bedroom window
The warm yellow hues fall gently upon the bed we lay in
The mismatch pillow cases of astronomy and pale white linen
Your long, lean legs tangled in sheets and your brown eyes closed lightly
You inhale and exhale the fantasies that are tangled in my mind
Your cigarette smell lingers and my head fills with the clouds you puff
I don't know if I love you yet
I don't know if you can love me enough

Why do you get to kiss her
I'm the one that truly misses her
I've been here through tears and the years and the awful nights through the day and the frights and you
jump
in
and
you
are
the
end
and
I
can't
stop
it
Through the years and the tears and the awful breakdowns through the tough and the rough
and
I
Don't
Get
Enough
no
I
Don't
Get
Enough
You kiss her. I miss her. Oh but you wouldn't know.
No, she wouldn't show.

Seasons walk by, and with a twinkle in her eye
She
Calls
My
Name
And I feel the pain
through these years and these tears and the awful one night kisses
You don't have to disappear
You just disappoint
Love