If the day will come when tides don't flow,
and water can't find the time to rise,
where birds don't chirp and crow,
and mothers hear no cries.

If the day will come when the earth is still,
so quiet you can hear your own heartbeat,
when trucks stop driving, at their own will,
and the radio feels defeat.

Tectonic plates quit drifting,
TV's all click off
Bicycle speeds stop shifting,
The sick don't need to cough

What a world our world would be,
if there was no need for noise
What kind of things would there be to see?
If all the sound was destroyed.

So speak to me tomorrow,
when we stop this blessed lull,
for now we can't tell sorrow,
just pretend that we are whole,

And I'm sure I'll hear your laughter,
when the stillness finds it's end,
but write down in this calm chapter,
I hear your smile in my head

When I loved you, you were April mornings and bagels with extra cream cheese.
When I lost you, you were untouched cups of coffee, growing colder and stale through the day.

When I loved you, there was muddy shoes and shortcuts off the main road,
When I lost you, I wandered around trying to find my way back to the trail head.

When I loved you I was younger, I was lost, my hair was longer and thicker, and my heart was lighter. I slept with lights on and drank my coffee with more cream,,
When I lost you I thought that was the end. I thought that the world around me had stopped spinning and I cried for nights upon nights and lost 10 pounds because I couldn't eat my food.

When I loved you I thought that I was happy,
When I lost you I realized that I had never really been that happy.

When I loved you I learned about forgiveness, patience, and how to care about someone.
When I lost you I learned about acceptance, solidity, and how to care about myself.

When I loved you I thought the world looked brighter and grass didn't itch the same.
When I lost you I saw that they sky has always been the same, and grass will grow in unexpected places.

When I loved you, I thought it would be forever. We were so young and wanted so much from each other.
When I lost you, and long long after I lost you, I realized how easy it is for things to change, and how these things won't break you.
& I do still love you (in memory)

I. The honey-bees are a dying breed,
II.** I'm sleeping on an air mattress instead of in your arms,
(these are not specific arms, these are general arms)
(or, you know, on a real bed, which would also suffice)
III. I spent three months obsessing over the concept of someone,
only to find in practice we had nothing in common
and nothing to talk about (to really talk about)
(12 hours in a car with someone and by the end you're either madly in love with them or know it will never ever work out)
IV. I saw a spider on the floor of my new room a few hours ago. What if it has friends?
(What if it has family? Where are they? How do I tell them I fear them and am also their ally?)
V. I still love the boy that hates me and still hate the boy that loves me and also don't care about either of them because I'm doing me right now.
(Because when was the last time I allowed myself to be alone and heal?)
VI. You never know how strong you are until you have to be as strong as you can be.
(and I am strong.)

I love you.
I loved you when we were kids chasing each other around the ranch.
I loved you when I had my first kiss and called you on the bus to tell you about it.
I loved you when we were learning how to do make-up together (you were always better than me).
I loved you with skinned knees and bad eyeliner
and I love you now.

Your mom died yesterday.
I love her and I love you and I have considered you family since we were 8 years old, making gingerbread houses in your old kitchen.

And we have been friends for over 10 years and I have only seen you cry a handful of times and today when we were boxing up your mothers things I didn't see you stop crying.

I love you and this hurts.
And I was at your house for almost six hours today and I don't think we said more than 20 words to each other.
Because all I could say is "I love you and this *****"
and all you could say was "I know."

And I love you, and this *****.
And I can't find any words to say to you, because the truth is that there is very little comfort in something like this. But I don't want you to know that, because I hate seeing you hurting. I don't want you to hurt and there is nothing in the world I or anyone else can do to keep you from hurting.


I love you so much, and this *****.

Please be mine,
let me call you my darling
let me rest my head in the crook of your lovely elbow.

I want to be the next thing you need after your morning coffee.
Please be mine.

Twirl my hair in your lovely finger
rest your head in my lap when you are sleepy,
oh won't you please be mine?

Let me kiss your cheeks for weeks,
sit on your lap at your desk,
call you at midnight with slurred words.

You will love me so much,
if only you'd be mine.

Sleep next to me faithfully when I start to dream of other things.
When I stop gripping your hand as tightly,
and you know somethings wrong but you're too scared to ask.

You'll love me so much if you're mine.

Won't you be mine?
I'll make you laugh,
I'll make you cry
I'll make you think everything is your fault.

You'll smell my hair in your bed but I won't be there anymore.
You'll feel more alone than you have in your whole life.
Won't you please be mine?

You'll hate me
You'll yell at me and then you'll feel even worse
and you'll hate yourself too.

I'll kiss your lovely cheek and walk away.
I'll probably never cry.
Oh, won't you please be mine?

That home is not a place it's a feeling. It's a feeling that wraps you in warmth and when you get there you know, because how could you ever feel like you feel when you're home?

2. That home will change. Home will adapt. You will come to the house you were raised in after being away for a while and you will your hand will shake as you open the door. The bed where you lost your virginity will feel stiff and old and you will realize that this doesn't feel like home anymore, that home is 800 miles away and sits with your stuff in boxes and with a girl with brown eyes and your favorite smile.

3. That time changes people, and time will change you. You will kiss the boy you swore you loved with all your heart a few years ago, just for the hell of it, and you will find that time has changed you both and you can't remember why his lips used to taste so sweet.

4. You will grow apart from people you don't want to grow apart from.   And that's okay. There will always be memories shared, and things you will miss. You will move on and talk infrequently and wish them the best.

5. You will hate how quickly things have changed. You will look back and you will think about high school and the excitement of leaving and wonder why you never fully appreciated where you were in this moment. You will feel pangs of regret, but they will pass.

6. You will bring to your home town habits you picked up while in school. You will take tequila shots in your kitchen at midnight because you're bored and you will shotgun a beer because it reminds you of home, and you miss your dorm room more than you would like to admit.

7. You are not invincible. When you leave school, you no longer have exams and work and parties to hide behind. Life moves slower here. You have to look at yourself each day with a new kind of acceptance, and that acceptance might seem harder here.

8. And you will be more alone, and this is a part of growing up. You went a year without regularly talking to your friends. It will hurt that you are not as a part of their group anymore. It will feel odd that you no longer have people to hang out with everyday. That your best friend is across the country and no longer shares a room with you. That you can't go to the guys down the hall's room to see what they are doing. That you will have days where no one texts you, no one talks to you, and this is all okay. You will learn about solitude and moving on and loving yourself. And of course, you will be okay, you've always been okay.