i can't say i wasn't warned
in high school when teachers told me
that the world would soon chew me up and spit
me out and have
its way with me
i can't say i am surprised
that the friends i had then have since
vanished
one by one by one by one

i have since been chewed up and spit out by the world
but i have also treated it like a bone
always trying to catch up with it, always
watching always
observing always
trying to call it mine
other people seem to have an easier time
at making new friends
they go to shows or bars or school
and that's how they meet
new people
i don't go to shows or bars or school
so i don't really meet
any people

and i am content with that.
people don't understand it, i mean,
what's a life without something put
before it?
love-life
social-life
career-life
night-life
what ever happened to just
life?

i don't have room to put anything before it.
i don't have room for more people in it.
i don't have the patience to explain this to people.
i don't have the patience to meet new people.

and people always say
not to cling too tightly to the things you're afraid to lose
because then the chances of losing them
are higher
but clinging to the people i have
has saved me in a lot of ways
and perhaps i'm set
in those ways but the truth is,
i am one lucky *****
and i'm not about to let go of the love
i've been given
for anything.

you're like a warm sweater straight out of the dryer
you're like a Disney movie on a bad day
you're like the greatest dream of all time without
the disappointment of it not being real when i wake up
you're like the sound of applause after a terrifying performance
you're like a warm bath for an aching body
you're like looking at the sun and the moon in the same sky
you're like a million double takes
you're like the feeling of jumping through giant puddles in polka dot rain-boots
you're like the gold at the end of the rainbow
you're like a mermaid that glistens under water
you're like the first song i ever wrote
you're like puppy-kisses and newly hatched birds and scented candles and poetry
you're like holding a cup of hot chocolate while
wrapped in a blanket sitting by a hand made fire
you're the feeling of watching the first snowfall of the season
you're the feeling of getting 100% on a test without studying
you're like a quote by L.M. Montgomery
you're the feeling of watching a Mississippi thunderstorm
you're the feeling of watching the fireworks at Disney World for the first time
you're the feeling of aching abs after excessive laughter

you are my kindred spirit
may we never grow up.

out of the blue you asked me if
the reason we don't talk anymore is because
both of us are supposedly "busy"
or if it is because
i'm trying to get better
while you're still trying to die

i quit beating around the bush
and told you the honest truth
scared to death
of hurting you even more
than you already are.

"it's okay, i understand. see you on the other side."
was all you said.

it breaks my heart to know that there are
two connotations
to that answer
and i might never find out
which one you were
referring to.

i like the way
you stare at me as i define the word busy
i like the way
you ask me how i'm doing
i like the hungry look
in your eyes as i reply "fine" because that is not enough of a response for you
to live on
i like the way
you keep trying to pursue me
after i've already made it ******* clear i'm not interested
i like how you said
you're okay with that
even though i know you aren't
i like the way you try
to catch my eye every time i walk past you
i like the way i look away
because eye contact is for sore girls with sad hearts
i like that i am
a sore girl with a sad heart but
my giggle distracts you from
knowing that
i like how i challenge your pride
every time i say no-thank-you-i-already-have-plans
i like how you keep reaching for something
that is obviously invisible
because i can hardly remember if i exist or not in general usually
i like how you don't know
that i can relate to that feeling
of wanting something that barely exists to begin with
i like how i say goodbye to you
right before the back door closes
and never looking back
at you to see if you're watching me
because i already know
that you are.

i asked you for money
to contribute to my trip to Florida

because i am a horrible daughter
because you haven't worked for three years
because i was testing you
because it's wrong that i have a job and you don't
because i'm 21 and you're 45
because i know you're broke and wanted to remind you of that
because you have two children you're not taking care of
because you have three children total but i don't count myself as yours anymore
because you have a lot of growing up to do
because i wanted to feel guilty for asking
because a piece of paper has exceeded the worth of our relationship
because i'm about to go on the most amazing adventure of my life
and you're not even happy for me
because i need your support
because you're essentially absent from my life
because you're dating a drug dealer who supplies you with everything
because i need you
i need you
i need you
i need you
because i'm a horrible daughter
because i'm greedy for asking
because nothing is enough.

you made promises
you lifted my heart
you made me laugh
you made me sing
you got me inspired
you treated me like i was a creative equal
you gave me something to look forward to
you said we were in this together

and then you went on tour
without a word
and all i knew was
we would no longer be sharing
the stage
and when we see each other now
i have absolutely nothing
to say

i won't be coming to your shows anymore

and i wonder if you keep the image
of my face tucked away in a tiny hiding place
where you don't always have to see it
but find endless comfort in knowing it's there,
like the picture i keep of my mother when she was nineteen
in my wallet only having to look at it
when i ride the bus or purchase something
necessary or to show to people just so i can say
"look! wasn't she pretty! do i look like her?"
without hearing their response
because the answers are all
in the questions

and i wonder if your hands find themselves
writing tiny letters in your diary
letters that are born of the outline of our
memories
like the way my hands so often do
and i wonder if you have a reserved sign
sitting on a table in your heart for me
just like i do
for you