I feel the need to apologize if I sleep;
because you aren't here

I feel the need to apologize if I don't;
because I robbed you of my dreams

But I'm most sorry;
that I'm not there.

I find it ironic how
We get warnings for how to deal with hurricanes weeks in advance
But you...
No one tells me how to deal with you
You crashed into me
Brought out things in me
That I didnt remember I had
And showed me things I didnt even know about myself
But instead of leaving me like a shell
Like hurricanes do
To homes, towns, entire cities
You left me with wind in my heart
Thunderstorms in my soul

The rain you left behind in your wake wont stop
The wind hitting the walls of my heart whenever i think of you
But youve moved into a different country
Even so You'll be my storm rescue soon enough

You are a fighter.
You are tough as nails
But so sweet

You make me smile
You make my heart flip when you do
But you make me want to cry
This love is so unfair

Like an evergreen that's always in the snow
I am aching daily
My life will be like there is no sun
When im without you

But My Heart Beats for you Alone
Ill be there when you cant say
Ill be there when you cant smile
My love will be that one thing

As I stand in the water,
                                              Ignoring the entire world    
                  Knee deep in the waves,my shorts wet       
                 On the same beach we had our first date                  
         Where we blessed the sand with footprints for hours            
When feet didn't tire because we couldn't get enough of each other

                                                     And now i stand still,          
                             Looking at the horizon of the sea        
                       The same one that we both love,                          
                 Is the only thing that separates us,                                  
         And  maybe if i stand here long enough,                                        
My two little feet planted in the sand will pull you back to me        

                                                 Strangers look at me like I'm lost    
                                   And I occasionally feel like I am,                 
             In the times when you are all i can think of,                        
         Let me get lost in you, drown in you, Love You,                      
    Let the ocean pull me under& lead me to you, its knows us both
Because the Ocean just isn't the same without you, You're my shoreline

Even though I cant hold your hand my love
I can find it in every cup of coffee or tea I hold
And they wonder why I drink them so much
Feeling the heat sear my hands
Like yours do, when I hold them so tight

Even though I cant hear your voice
I can hear you in bits of every song
And they wonder why my headphones are always in
Feeling you in the notes and words

Even if i cant see you, I still feel you in everything

While this i may not know
You are the summer wind
Pushing my hair out my face whispering I love you
You are the sea chasing me up the sand
Just for the chance to touch me

You are the fall Leaves
crunching under my feet to make me smile
You  are in the hot tea i drink
Kissing my fingertips the moment I touch you

You are in the heater
Kissing my nose after the bitter cold of winter

You are the spring flowers
Tangled in my hair

You are every little thing that makes me smile
You are why the world looks beautiful again to this once lonely girl

It all makes sense now
Why the sea always runs back to the shore
Pushed away
push push pushed away
But it always comes back for more

Its because the shore wants all the kisses from the pads of your feet to itself...
And the sea because it wants to hug you gently one more time...

And hell If i was the ocean i would too.

Because i know how beautiful it is when i see you on that shore

Our grandmother sat in the corner, an irish-plaid towel hung over her legs, in a wheel chair, drinking two litre bottles of apple juice and orange juice, the little droplets hanging off her chin, her head tilted back. She said as a little girl, she would always try to get as much vitamin c as possible if she felt herself getting sick. Now she just drowned herself in the stuff. We kept telling her orange juice is not a viable cure for cancer, so she started drinking apple juice too.

She got diagnosed with cancer a few days after our grandfather died. They say couples always pass within a few months of each other. My grandmother hated my grandfather, so her vigorous orange and apple juice guzzling was really an ambition of divorcing his name from her in death; she didn’t care whether she passed or kept on living another hundred years, so long as no one associated her death with his.

As I left I locked up, remembering to leave my key in the door for Rooty (whenever he got home). We could only afford one key, and couldn’t afford a doormat to leave it under.

I told grandma if she just went two days without buying lotto tickets, we could get another key. She says it’s just her luck that one of those days would be the day her ticket goes to someone else. I didn’t see it mattered, she was gonna die any day now anyway. She wants to win so bad I often think if she did win, she’d die right there on the spot, her life’s greatest ambition crossed off the last line of her to-do list, and being too dead to claim it would be forced to forfeit the prize leaving us here alone with one key, a cellar full of juice and still no doormat.

I sat at the foot of his bed, and he stood beside me with his pants half down, the top of his belt hugging the base of his **** and a thick bed of ***** hair curling over his jeans. On the sides of his upper-thighs where they grabbed the hips, his skin was striped with razor lines.

“I cut myself here so no one can see.”

People never trust you with these sorts of things when you’re sober. Then they open up to you with such shocking honesty and determination to reach something human in someone else, secretly trying to identify something human in themselves.

I thought to myself “what kind of genuine advice can I give him?” I thought this because I didn’t actually have anything genuine to tell him. I was riddled with uncertainty—which I certainly wasn’t about to reveal to him.

I kept searching for the advice that would mend the sores of my half-panted friend with his bare thighs in my face and his heart on the floor in-front of my laced converse. But I had nothing. So I simply told him, “Want to get lunch sometime?”

He agreed that we would.

A few days went by, and both of us got distracted with life as tends to happen. Our lunch date felt more and more remote. But then I started to feel a little sad myself. Then I started to feel a lot sad, and I thought about death a lot. I wondered if this was the way he felt before talking to me, so I called him and asked to meet me for lunch.

We met up in a Chinatown bar, drinking cheap beer and trying to be young. After a few sips, he asked me why I had been feeling sad lately, but I still didn’t know what to tell him. If I had known, I would have had an answer for him when we sat by his bed, drunk.

I don’t think he knew what to say either, so we sat at the table and drank.

He told me I was a great man, and lucky too. I told him he was the best man I knew.

But somehow we both knew we had lied. Or at least our good praise cancelled each other out.

That night, I got a phone call. He had moved away in the night across the country. He told me to come visit, and I said that I would. Naturally, I never went out to visit him, he was simply too far and I didn’t care quite enough. But I still think about what I would say to him.