expectations
have a way
of building

these moments
replayed so often
they are made great
before they exist

and sometimes
reality
just doesn't match

and that's the worst part
of an empty room
the thoughts
can't be distracted

i need human interaction
and crowds don't count
i need someone
to look me in the eyes
when i talk
then tell me
everything's going to
be *okay

I see you almost daily
in long braided ponytails
and sarcastic smirks
on stranger's faces in a foreign town.

But where it makes sense
I wasn't expecting you.
So I turn
and my heart drops to my stomach
and it's thundering so loud
I feel like my skin will vibrate
off of my body.

And your cousins are there
so grown and beautiful.
I think of the times
we did puzzles
or played soccer in the yard.

No one glances my way
and it's funny
how a second
can feel like an eternity.
And it's funny
how you were my sun
while I'm just a desolate planet.

scrolling through my feed
when a picture makes me
stop
zoom
stare
yep, i was right
she just posted a picture
with her body splayed across
THE picnic table
the very picnic table
where the first person i loved
ended
everything

i waited
for the anger
or sadness
to drown me
like it has before

but it didn't.

i felt okay
that art could be made
in a place where i sat
and uncontrollably sobbed

it felt nice
that there was beauty
to be found
at a picnic table
where i once only saw
heartache