What stop's me from moving closer, what stops me from calling out, the dobut inside will burn me alive but i know you can live without.

The rough uncertainty ran crosswise in a seemingly random design.
The continuity of it was in decline. Time forming before me as the gravity did act.
Slowly tugging downward as strength is what it lacked.

It seem's the sun is on this desk. Delicate by design intertwined.
As it raises beyond the crest.
It's length is in a bind.
Thought  it does not even strain.
No it doesn't mind.

On a Saturday morning, one unnaturally warm for the usually brisk Pacific Northwest region, a girl woke up early.
Her first thought was not of the time, 6 am. She had woken up at this hour many times before, every Saturday in fact. Nor was her first thought about the unnatural warmth of the air seeping through her window. Her first thoughts were not of her legs tangled in her blankets, of the large breakfast she wouldn't eat, or of the last remnants of her dreams.
Her first thoughts were of a boy.
As were her second.
Her third. Her fourth.
Her fifth however, was that she should probably get ready to leave.
That summer, the girl had spent every Saturday morning 3 miles up the road at a small farm owned by a family from her church. Her father, the pastor with a history of dairy farming, had encouraged church goers to head up to the farm to help pick the bushels of fruits and vegetables being grown for his churches personal food bank. The girl simply assisted him.

The boy was on her mind every other minute, as she dressed, washed, loaded her allergy medication into a bag and trekked out the door into the misty morning heat. All through the drive she was silent, wondering if he every thought about her. Her father was all but indifferent, speaking of little but weather patterns and permaculture.

The farm was large yet quaint, owned by a woman who evidently had an unfulfilled dream to become a Barbie doll. Farm animals were littered unnecessarily around the property, serving little purpose but to appear cute. The girl supposed they succeeded.

45 minutes of plucking kale leaves offered little satisfaction to the girl, her fingers shaking and *****, aching for contact with the boy who she admitted to herself had probably never given her a second thought. However, this thought was in fact her 67th consecutive such one about the boy. She was unaware of how her 79th thought about him would happen to coincide with the gentle vibration in her pocket. A small blue box with an early morning greeting would appear on her cell phone screen, making her dirt covered hands oddly still.
She was unaware that the boy was motivated to send this particular message by his 104th consecutive thought about her that morning. She was unaware that, much like her, he had thought of little else over the previous month. She was unaware that hours of conversation would lead to revelations of startlingly similar music preferences, opinions and thoughts.

She was unaware how deeply he felt for her. Yet she was all but unaware of how deeply she felt for him. She was unaware that two years from this warm Saturday morning she would be laying in bed at 1 am, rediscovering her writing talent while recounting the beginnings of a love story. Her own.

being human is strange,
out of everything
I could have manifested as,
a sand grain, a water drop, a rock,
who would have guessed
I'd be projected into this brain,
which sometimes lets me fly,
but usually gets me stuck...

Hello
infinite space,

Hello
infinite time,

Hello
every atom,

I'm borrowing a small part
of you,
just for a little
while.

The sadness won't collect
unless you settle in its path
And let it move around you
to remember where you sat
There's nothing but a story
you were hoping not to tell
your mouth begins to open
and the words become themselves
These little deaths are part of
what you need to understand
This life is but a moment
you will carry in your hand
The binding's in the middle
where your heart can keep it safe
And hold it all together
when your mind is far away
Before you see your body
fall apart until it dies
you'll find the only solace
is the sorrow that's inside

Rub the dust off the windowsill,
For the blinds won't hide you forever.
Open up the lungs with toxic chemicals,
Dying in an attempt to feel better.
Tragic design, outlined with the beautiful,
Got me wondering what the words will mean in my last letter.

Saddened by the losses of those I barely know,
When they played such big parts in my soul's growth.
Even though I know that nothing's set in stone,
I'm haunted all alone by my own death's ghost.
Hard not to imagine the status of my bones
When the aches are awakened by a solo thought's groan.

Every single ripple refuses to reflect the picture clearly,
So I stopped throwing rocks at all I was fearing.
Measuring correlations between my mood and the weather,
Wounds healed, finding me to be recipient and sender.
Eye lost my mind under the moon to realize it really gets better.

Just then I stared at the surface of the calm water and placed my feather~

We'll float on, and carry messages in waves
Your inner child already knows what you need to feel saved
In this life we often place a lot of pain on the grave,
It's time to focus on now, release worry, and be brave.

*Of love, we are all limitless banks
To you, and universal truths, I give thanks~