it's great to be here.
i always say it's not
and i never feel like it is.
but its great to be here.

everything ive ever loved is here
in the meadow,
swanning for all of us.
singing our names.

i focus so much on the cold
i forget july
i forget august.

its great to be here
its always great to be here.

just what i needed
a storm through my room.
my clothes
on different parts of the floor.
it was a mess before you rolled through.

she dances
sober
and smiles when she does it too.
its really a sight to see.

i turn 19 today.
i feel the same
as 18
which felt alot
like 17
not much different
from 16 either.

i feel my age
i see my wall
i see the light
behind it.

i need virginia.
and so do you.

virginia is the flickering lights
of an emergency room vacation.

virginia is the bruise on your cheek
from a cafe seizure.

virginia is the moment you realized
you changed your favorite color, without ever asking yourself first.

virginia is understanding that nothing we do will ever change what will be.

virginia is your pink wet tongue frozen
to the telephone poll.

virginia is the moment at the funeral
when you realize you've never seen a dead body before.

virginia is all those times you stole lighters from the corner store
and all the times you never got caught.

virginia is the woman you sleep with, after you crash your car on the freeway.

virginia is who you call on the phone, when you think it's all over.

virginia is a story worth telling.
let it breathe.
let it breathe.
let it breathe

there is more than one type of cold.
there’s the cold from that winter wind
it blows through the window
with the hole in it and it sneaks around
the curtains and comes up
through the floor
there’s the cold during the summer
when it’s ninety degrees in the shade
and you turn on the a/c in the car
and it numbs your fingers
and the backs of your arms
there’s the cold when you’re sick
and ten blankets couldn’t reach the chill
that’s made its way inside
and your eyelids feel the fever drifting
there’s the cold that arrives when you’re scared
when you’re nervous
it nestles just under the skin
and you’re losing feeling in your fingers
there is more than one type of cold
but you’re the only one
that ever made me freeze.

I used to write all the time
and I was good at it
but now,
i don’t know what to write
or how to
because no combination of words
that i could spit out of my mouth
could ever come close to describing
the rotting in my chest