The littlest things can push me over the edge. I need someone who will grab me by the waist and pull me back. Not someone who is telling me to jump, just to see if i would do it.

I really think we could do it. We could make it, we could go far. I want to make it, I want to get to that place eventually. I want to be there with you. I want to be there with you on a rainy day, sitting on our couch rolled up in blankets. But not too many, because you know I get warm. I want to be there with you dancing and singing and laughing the night away on the day we’ll say “I do.”  I want to be there with you in foreign places, traveling and experiencing new things together. I want to be there with you when you find your dream job to see the excitement and fulfillment on your face. I want to be there with you at every family get together, because meeting and being around the people you love and have made you who you are is such a blessing to me. I want to be there with you on Sunday mornings, whether we go out to breakfast or go to church; Sundays fill me with joy and I want to share that with you. I want to be there with you, by my side, raising the children we brought into this world. I want to be with you, for a really long time. I really think we could do it. I really think I could be there, with you.

Sharing my work with anyone besides my mother is a scary thing for me. Especially with someone like you. But you asked, and i protested, and you pleaded, and i read to you. I tried to read to you with a voice as confident and clear as i could but these feelings that i've put on paper are fragile things, they deserve quiet and slow. You deserve quiet and slow, orange and yellow, warmth and touch. You are a piece of work yourself, putting mine to shame. You sit there and you listen with your mouth shut yet you're speaking volumes. You are something beautiful who deserves beautiful words and i can try to give them to you. But nothing i write could ever encompass all that you are. I will still try. I will write, and i will read to you. Quiet and slow, in orange and yellow, with warmth and touch.

I am content with the thought of your fingers brushing my skin and words whispered in my ear. It could be enough for me. I am content with the awkward exchanges and mouths that never say what needs to be heard. It could be enough for me. I am content with the eyes you give me from across a room and the flutters in my stomach when things feel like September again. It could be enough for me. Just know that my heart is settling. My head has begun to speak over my heart and that is how i wound up here, being content. My heart just wants to feel close to yours again. Chest to chest both beating, speaking words to each other that would never come from our mouths. I have been talking to myself for months now. Everything my heart feels and thinks and wants it has kept to itself, in hopes that you'd be back to hear these stories. So lay me down, share your soul, show me love. Be here with me. With you. It's us. My heart will never be content unless its us.

I am lonely tonight.
My mind sits on frayed ropes and wearing wires -
And right to the right -
Sits my heart, sounding of empty choirs.

It's not always quiet.
It used to sing of light and blue and full-
I may be biased -
But it was breathtaking, filled with such soul.

My mind sits on wires.
Which may or may not be there when i wake -
Below there are fires -
My hope may burn, but my soul it wont take.

I may be lonely tonight -
But i am still here.
Right to the right sits my heart -
And i know the music will eventually reach my ears.

Please - you need to leave.
You need to go far away.
Fall away like leaves -
From my branch - and from my love.

You hold on too tight -
To what i don't have to give.
Your grip is too loose -
On everything thing that i offer.

I try to pull back -
Pull to break this connection.
When its nearly gone -
Is when you build it back up.

I am doing all the work -
I am so very tired -
Of this.

Getting to know yourself is more than just a, "whats my likes, what's my dislikes? what's my name, where am I from, and what do I want?" It's traveling and finding a place that feels like home, where the gravity pulls a bit stronger and the sun shines a bit brighter. It's being alone listening to the silence and thinking, "This is me. These are my thoughts, no one else's." It's realizing that you are made from the same things of this earth but your soul is of something more than substance. It's saying things without thinking, because those words are a raw reflection of your heart. You are so many things that you have yet to discover. Let yourself speak to you.