I still ask
myself why
you do the
things you
do, still wonder
if you hide behind
a paintbrush or
smoke blunts on
cliff edges with
pretty girls, wrapped
in bandanas, dust
and Albuquerque
sweat, I still romanticize
you in the back of my
head along with everything
else, and that song by Tori
Kelly winds back up over
the speakers.

the people here are
static on the television
food with preservatives
plastic flowers.

he spoke to me
on the phone
last night

it gave me a fright
the anxiety was back
you sounded so calm
left me feeling numb

I heard your lips say
ever so gently
that you missed me

we spoke for hours
then I heard her voice
you said you had to go
and we'd talk tomorrow
I replied a short goodbye
and today at 9
you sent me a text
I guess I smiled

the beauty of life
is hard to describe
it is the amount
of positive vibes
in one person's life
and the negative ones
that help us grow
like a flower
endless progress
just that, we are humans

heal, release, set free
never hold a flame
unless you want
it to burn
your hand
keep it close
but far away
in your heart
it will always remain