We're blind
to what
we do not
want to
believe

You appeal to
my naked soul.

I could spend hours whispering my
guilt into your skin,
apologies into the curve of your neck,
and litanies against your ribs,
entreating you with my lips and breath and words until you shatter.

There surrounded
hungry, fast, frenzied
Here alone
loving, affectionate, desperate

The people I work with are unique in every possible way.
They're all like little divided pieces of myself...
and when I told them that, not one of them even blinked.

"That's deep, man. I know what you mean... I feel the same way."

Finally, acceptance.

They don't judge the way I speak or act or think.
They even enjoy the poems I write and leave on the board.
They accept each other for everything that they are.

--
Jourdan is living in anxiety and takes ten minute smoke breaks to smooth
that rough edge.
("I really should quit, but it reminds me of my dad.")

Chris is a dancer and dances in the bus station when no one can see
that elegant movement.
("Yes, I'm gay, in case you were wondering.")

Myranda is intelligent and I tell her that everyday just to make her smile
that beautiful smile.
("Can I leave my textbooks up here?")

Becky is a singer and sings with me whenever good music plays over
that old speaker.
("Hi I'm Becky and I can sing your order for you if you'd like!")

Danny is practically a comedian and the jokes he throws around are
that ******* funny.
("Stuuuu? Why are you making chocolate pudding?")

Brandon is a flirt and he's constantly coming up with reasons to come to
that front lobby.
("Hey Leigh! Can you put this tip in my waistband?")
--

All of these people are so different, yet so alike.
We get along just fine.
I couldn't ask for anyone better.

The ghosts of our pasts move around us,
laughing and dancing and haunting our hearts.
They are omnipresent, always there.
Yet we choose to ignore them.
...And with good reason.
They only cause tension.
Flashes of memory, that is all they are now.
*We rise above the past.

Your love fills all the white space
on the blank canvas of this life.

Do not turn my bleeding heart into one oozing poison.

I would rather lose myself in music
than lose myself in strife

It's taken a long time to let myself freely love.
For a while, I didn't believe love even existed...

But my God, do I love you.

I could go on and on and on,
but words could never be enough.

I've only been able to come up with a single sentence:

**Your name pulses as steady as a heartbeat in my thoughts.

Dearest Juan,

How ya been, kid?
The Big Man Upstairs treating you well?
I hope so.
--
First off, a big thanks to your parents.
It was kind of them to go to the counselor about my note to you.
I know they had the best intentions at heart.
--
I actually saw your family at church on Sunday.
They looked alright...
No, I'm totally lying.
They still look wrecked.
It's only been two weeks, right?
It's obviously been a rough time for them...
Your younger siblings looked weak.
Your older sister looked thinner.
Your parents looked haunted.
I cried when I saw them walking up the aisle.
Wonder if they realized that the song being played at mass was
one that was played at your funeral...
--
Everyone at school is still thinking of you, ya know.
I see you in the blank faces of your friends.
They cringe every time they walk into Freeman's classroom.
They never stay long.
Guess it makes them think of you.
--
I'm gonna say goodbye now, Juan.
Just wrote this to get some thoughts out.
Take care of yourself.
Watch over your family.
Tell John Lennon that Leigh Fresina said, "You're a swine".

See ya, kid.

**
Leigh

I wanted you and you...
you needed to be wanted.