It's been a while since we've talked
         but I remember everything

You used to always tell me
- You always know what to say.

And I'd say
- Of course, it's my job.
I love you.

The best part is
I honestly didn't
I never really do
Words just happen when it comes to you

it was never a job
it was a privileged
it was so many things
        Like late night giggles
              **** talking those we hate
                     And all the jokes no one understood but us
                      (even if they weren't really that funny)

So of course I always know what to say
That's why you're my Best Friend
         the only one who really gets me
         or who I really get
Because people are hard
         which is something we both get

its all smiles here
always
no matter what
or how far apart we are

Am I losing you?
I feel like I am...

maybe it's just because we don't talk as much anymore
and whenever we do
it's catching up
and then silence

we make jokes
reminisce on the crazy **** we did
and laugh our ***** off
       too much for the joke itself
       but if we stop laughing— what then?
so we reminisce some more

You were always one of my closest friends..
       maybe not my best friend, but you were always there
We did everything together, our group. The Boys. Our Group.

now i see you twice a year
and each time is less frequent than the last

And I'm not ready to let you go.
       maybe it's because i know i don't have anyone else like you
       definitely don't have anyone else like you
       and i forget how to make friends
       the new ones aren't as good
I don't do well with change.

       i'll text you occasionally and talk about the unimportant stuff
       but that spark that united us to begin with is gone
       you've changed. i've changed
Our worlds are different now
So what do we have left to connect us?

i don't do well with change

This is not a love poem
this is an I love you do you love me like
I love you poem
do you know me like
you think you do poem
this is a would you be disappointed
if you did poem
an I have been feeling the chilling of the air
and I cant tell if it is just the fault of the season
or if you, too, are cooling
whatever heat you had for me
browning and falling and
crumbling between my fingers
like the leaves of these oak trees
in november poem
a what would I need to do to keep us warm poem
and this is also
an I may be completely mistaken poem
an it was seventy degrees today poem
this is a show me I am completely mistaken poem

Sometimes I wonder
All the time actually
   if it's bad that I think about things like this

You've given me very few reasons to feel
Any way that isn't bliss
   but I still find myself questioning
   things I shouldn't think

I ask myself
What it means to
Be In Love
   because in the end
   isn't it just a word?
   even though I know it's a feeling too.

I ask myself
   why do I always put you first?
   and forget about myself
Because I'm good at blending in
I'm good at conforming
   to avoid conflict
   and make myself more likeable

In the end,
I'm not outstanding.
I'm not really funny
                    or interesting
                    or unique
I'm not really very pretty either.

So is that why I conform?
To be what I imagine you want
Because I'm afraid of losing you
   even though you've never given me a reason
   to believe that you'd leave me
   if I were anything but myself

Is it really Love
If I ask these questions?

Will I ever find an exact match?
Someone who thinks like me
    or act as I'd expect?
Because my expectations are unrealistically high
So I'd never find someone better, right?

I blame the movies.

You know those nights?
The ones when you’re driving alone in the car and the radios playing old songs like
               “Dust in the Wind”, Kansas
               “Come Away with Me”, Norah Jones
You know, those ones?

and there’s this feeling of loneliness
                                             sadness
                                             emptiness
but they aren’t bad—
Just Comforting
it reminds you of a rainy day

as you drive you can see into the windows of the houses you pass
they stand out against the pitch blackness
    the smothering darkness
    the wool blanket that covers your head when you’re cold

stars shine soulless white
which contrasts with how you feel
but it’s nice

and you know you can’t touch it
you can hardly imagine its vastness
                                           its endlessness
                                           its infinity
all you can do is ponder
    ponder the midnight navy blue sky
    ponder the peculiar comforting houses and what they do inside

Do they laugh?
Maybe they're watching your favorite TV program?
a child could be crying, or trying to stifle laugh
    Maybe their mother is asleep?
    or baby brother?
Perhaps no ones home?
they just forgot to turn off the lights

You will never know
Although you can ponder
                                 dream
                                 imagine
                                 wonder
                                 think
and you want to go inside

Perhaps... its best to keep driving