i wasted my whole life
trying to become small
but it was only when i realized
what it truly meant to be small:
to be utterly and terrifyingly alone,
that i realized
small isn't anything you should aspire to be.

i sit here on a cold December evening
watching the snow fall
over the dead trees
and i cannot help but think
that i am somehow like those trees
because i am numb,
and fragile,
and dead,
and i am being buried by
the storm of challenges
life is pummeling me with
but like those trees
I will one day become full of life again.

i haven't seen You
spoken to You
or heard from You
for so long that i cannot possibly count the days

but that doesn't mean you are gone
You left your presence running
through my veins
and i can still feel your hand
against mine if i try hard enough

You sneak your way into the music
blasting in my headphones
while i am alone on a Friday night
and during long drives through my hometown
memories of you flood my mind.

if only i could keep driving until i reached You,
and together return to the life i once knew.