I want you to be there,
standing at the end of the road
that winds through mountains, over rivers, into canyons,
where ever this life takes me,
until it begins to head towards you
on an undeniably smooth and steady path

you'll stand there,
surrounded by sycamores
whose leaves have begun to turn
and as they begin their leap of faith to the ground
they will dance around you
because nothing in this world can deny you,
your magnetism is inescapable
the moment I lay my eyes
on your golden halo and fresh water eyes
I'll never look away

we'll meet there,
our roads becoming one
and I will walk with you forever
I'll never become bored or restless,
I won't wander, because,
what greater love is there
than the love between best friends?

I'll stay there,
with you, in this love, forever,
I will stay
because I could turn my skin inside out
and you wouldn't see a piece of me
that you didn't recognize
and you would still look me in the eyes and tell me,
"you're beautiful, but you already know that."

this city took me in
when all other plots of land
scorned me, with their
glacial shoulders and fire eyes

the boarded up houses
turned their sagging porches
into wide mouthed grins
and the sidewalks swarmed with
rats, roaches, and strays
singing their welcome

strangers held my hand
as I wandered the West Side
passing along dimebags full
of knowledge and love, as if
I were one of their own

and slowly, but surely,
I became a piece of the patchwork,
my limbs and core feeling each
forceful pierce of the needle

I was made one with this city
that needed me
just as much as I needed it

there is something beautiful about a sad girl who stands staring into her own soul,
leaning hard against a mahogany mantle wondering how quickly gravity would take her if she let go

clutching onto something solid reminds her that she isn't lost inside some ****** up dream,
that the twitchy movement on the edge of her peripheral vision isn't your ghost ready to bridge the then, there, and in between

yesterday's masccara leaves the perfect hangover smudge, and wild curls turned stale frame a face ridden with gloom,
sadness and beauty compliment each other so well, she looks herself in the eye and decides to say forever locked in this room

I am beautifully ******
in a zone wedged between
perfection and pleasure

perched on a throne of swans
with star's light illuminating my gaze

I wander through intricate plucking
into a field full of fresh, wet snow
I sway there, the sun warming my face

music ends and I'm still blissfully lost
next to the garden of my mom's first apartment

I stare into the tree of life's center
hoping that if I look deep enough
I'll find answers of what's to come and what has passed

Adam and Eve grin at me devilishly
and I want for nothing more than an apple

i have walked to the ends of the earth
and peered over the edge
sat with my feet swinging
like a little ******* a bench
wishing her limbs would grow longer, stronger

i have seen what lies beyond
and i'm no better than i ever was

in fact,

i'm worse

because all that i've learned
is that life in eternal solitude
isn't life at all

and all that i want is you,

telling me i'm too close to the edge
holding my hand so that i can't let go
reminding me that the beyond is for those
who can't figure out how to live and to grow

and i love you for the things
that you teach me when i don't want to learn

for the way that you make me see
something that's been there all along

i love you because you made me believe
that i'm not always right and that
admitting i'm wrong doesn't have to be
laying down and giving up my plight

i love you because you're not afraid
to look me in the eye and tell me
******* it, erin, don't be so terrified
that you can't let go and fly

i live in a world
of sheets littered with
pen marks, used tissues and sweat

mind you, the pen marks are black
because i only write in
black ink, blue is too foolish,
if that makes sense,
although i'm quite certain
that it doesn't

i lay my head on torn
out pieces of poems, better
left unfinished
and i breathe deep
mostly because i love the
smell of worn paper
and a little because i
don't want these words
to feel unloved

i'm a writer who knows
her mediums better than
she knows her self

tonight was the last time
i'd walk into my yard
without shoes on
and not lose my toes
to the frost that breathes on the back
of our necks
even though the shine from the sun
still freckles our faces

i stood there and held steady
as bailey ran figure eights around me
weaving in and out of the rhododendrons
knowing just how long his leash would reach
before his collar snagged on his windpipe

i looked over the fence,
saw that your light was on,
but i knew you were gone
being pumped full of formaldehyde
and by now they had cut you open
and taken out my favorite part of you

i thought of the time when i was just four
and you rolled over on that ride on mower
wearing that old hat you'd gotten
back when they called you the anaconda
your skin was like chocolate and i thought to myself,
now that man looks delicious

my daddy handed me to you over the fence
and i sat on your lap, we mowed your two acres together
you singing stevie wonder, me singing the beatles
back and forth we went until every last blade was clipped

i rolled down the sledding hill and you smoked your cigar
and laughed when i got up and couldn't figure out
if i was looking up at the sky or down at the earth

and when your big hands
held my tiny shoulders
the world stopped spinning
i looked down and there was
the tiny gold locket that i still have today

my momma called me for dinner
and you picked me up,
put me on my side of the fence
and winked at me like you always did
but that day was different, that day you said,
erin ann, you're the daughter i never had

i know that the blood
that runs from my heart to my brain
to my finger tips as they write this
is not the blood that no longer
races through your veins,
but lord knows,
that won't make
watching them throw the dirt
on top of you
any easier