everyone always tells me
(question: what's your favorite color?
answer: blue)
that if you love something
(question: what's your favorite book?
answer: infinite jest)
you have to let it go
(question: what scares you most?
answer: rejection)
and see if it comes back
(question: have you ever seen someone die?
answer: yes)

i think
(question: is it better now?
answer: yes)
maybe we're both waiting
(question: do you love me?
answer: I ******* do)
for that to happen
(question: do you miss me?
answer:      )

i miss you sometimes
i shouldn't

loneliness
is when you have watched your favorite show
so many times
that you, as well as your family,
know the complicated theme song
and everybody sings along every night
as you sit down for dinner in front of the TV
and then you watch it at midnight
when no one's awake
and you let it play without singing

love
is eavesdropping on a sister and brother
walking behind you,
the sister as high as a kite
and the younger brother wearing a leather jacket
as he holds her hand to lead her through a forest,
and you realize they love each other
more deeply than you could ever understand
and they always have
and always will

happiness
is
healthy babies being born,
healthy soldiers coming home

sadness*
is
a newlywed
dying
on her honeymoon

the first time you saw me and I saw you
I was crying in the drivers seat of my car.
I mean really sobbing.
a ****** song was blasting on the radio,
probably so loud you could hear it
through the walls of my car.
at that point I had nothing to lose
and so I didn't even turn it down.
I didn't try and wipe the tears away,
because the look on your face didn't make me feel bad and I think that's some sort of gift you have.
you were looking right through my windshield
and you knew I was watching you, too.

I need you to know:
I wish that wasn't your first impression of me
because I'm not always like that.
but I cry an awful lot
and I'm usually embarrassed by that.
so, I guess, in a way, I'm glad you got to see me sad
because it wasn't fake.
I just wish I knew what you thought.
maybe someday I will.

I will always be a little bit depressed.
I will always have that little spot in my heart
that you can feel lying in bed,
that feels like an unfinished apple
browning in the air.
I will always be a little depressed
with the sound of the swamp cooler overheard
and the sound of crickets outside at night
and the deep blue color of the sky
on a southern evening.
and the train running through town
across towns where the moonlight
seeps through shut blinds
where the tall grass climbs the pale blue walls
of a small townhouse under a telephone wire
and across the country,
where the desert spreads out from a lone house
like the mountains are
shying away from it
where a scared and tired young girl
tries to fall asleep with all the lights on
where fluorescent-and-concrete street lights
flicker on but nobody drives that night
and therefore nobody needs them
these things are all so sad
and so the question begs to be asked,
who can't connect with them?
ipso facto,
who isn't a little bit sad?

to you:
i walked through the grocery store
and i ran my fingers over every bottle full of *****
and it reminded me of you
because you're full of things that people like
and things that people become addicted to
and truth serums
and good stories
and poison
but there always seems to be a thin layer of glass around you
because i don't really understand you
and i don't think i ever will
until i can see the bottom of the bottle
feeling miserable

to person #4:
you told me that your tear ducts were broken
as we sat in a diner while the morning turned pale.
isn't that somehow worse?
sadness without tears
is like art without paint.
i like you
because my cheeks and my feet
are so often dripping with blue acrylic,
so much so
that i can't tell when they're dry.