Let's play pretend, for just half a second:
I'll unbelieve all the lies I promised myself.
And I'll tuck away all the loose odds and ends
To convince my flailing heart we never existed.


Because maybe we never existed.

Tiny steps to solid strides
We wonder why we wander
Everglades that consume the fire
Never waking from my slumber
Twins that vanish from my mind
Youth that ticked at a rate most unkind
Once upon a May I say so
Nothing is
Ever in two neat rows

Let’s move mountains.
Climb, conquer, repeat
Root our flags in the insurmountable
Dream of the next new peak

Let’s move lives.
Love until we bleed
Give what we can and perhaps a little more
Not in word but too in deed

Let’s move hearts.
Stir souls into reacting
One can move but many can create
We are merely at the beginning

Let’s run let’s leap let’s fly let’s soar
Let’s dash through every open door
We don’t have anything to prove
But we’ll be a generation that moves.

He kissed me.
And I never looked away.
He loved me.
And I never looked back.
He left me.
And I never looked at another.

Left/Right/Wrong/Right
Fluttering in the empty wind
A helpless shred of heart
About to be whisked away for good.

Trying to bend my limbs into
Four corners because I must.
All they will see is a perfect box.
All they will see is nothing.

How do I love you?
Let me count the ways:
-
-

They see us, I look away.
The clock strikes 12, I walk away.
A constant battle between the realms
Of reality and happily ever after.
This isn't love, it's another kind of torture.

Maybe in another universe.

Or perhaps not even then.

I'm having what I call an avalanche tonight.
When it all comes tumbling down
And engulfing me till I can't breathe
I don't even know what's come over me.
Or when it began
Or who caused it.

But I know that I would gladly climb back up
to the top of this mountain
and experience it
all over
again.

If it meant that I would feel this exhilaration
This joy this pain this woe this ache this high
This love.

All over again.

I'm having what I call an avalanche tonight.

And there she crawls,
clawing the surface
trying to hold on to the dry roots
that twist around her bare wrists but
the more she clings on the more
they crumble in her hands.
She has lost her way her
direction her calling her
North Star.

Don't wait up.
I'm not coming home.