what i remember most is how perfectly your tiny hands fit in mine

you let me sleep in your bed every night i was in buffalo. you cooked me pancakes, you played jazz records on vinyl, you gave me your sweatshirt and sent me poems in the mail

endless laughs and chai tea and big blue eyes, you are a brilliant universe unto yourself

i can’t believe i treated your beautiful heart so carelessly

your dog never liked me. maybe she knew i’d break your heart someday

The sun rises,
The sky gets grey.

The internet runs,
The phone dies.

The music blares,
The dark stays.

The shade stays closed,
The door says shut.

There is a reason,
*for everything

She looked so small when she slept.

The bed wasn't big by any means, I could've easily stretched myself across the entirety of it and she would still find a perfect spot to curl up next to me.

Her hair was funny.

I would wake to see traces of brownish blonde hair before anything else. It would tickle my nose as I breathed deeply, taking in her scent and letting it remind me that I'm awake.

So beautiful.

A feeling would go through me as I see her there, snuggled up against me. A warm heat that quickly spreads and turns into a dull ache. Sometimes it would pass. Sometimes I would forget it by pulling her close and breathing. She smelled like shade on a hot summer day.

Sometimes I couldn't handle the feeling, like having her was too much.

I worried about her. I worried about what she would give up, being with me, as well as whether or not she was happy. I worried so much.

When I held her, she felt so small, as if she would be lost by morning if I didn't keep hold through the night. So small, that one day I might lose her, and in a way lose myself.

I wondered if there is any reason for her to wake.

As long as I could, I would be that reason.

Forever.

Broken heart misery,
a tape that's on replay,
starts off beautiful,
ends in a symphony of tears.

We all have a little sadness that we have to live with
            And that's not a bad thing