I plead for you to listen to me,
Just this one request,
With that my request is useless,
my feet are like bricks of concert glued to the floor,
with a heavy step forward and back,
nothing seems to ever change,
my decisions leads to disappointment and the impossible,
I feel so far from everyone,
I miss what I've lost,
But I know there's always an expiration data for everything,
why can't I accept that?
A lost cause and burden,
Unreasonable thoughts linger like smoke,
I can't sustain  that my visual state of mind is no longer colorful,
from my heart and soul,
I can't walk away,
no place can hold,
like no other I would know,
Black and white,
Why are you so hard to reach?
One day I'll be able to see colors change within the seasons
with out the unnecessary  movements of sadness,
Only grace and peace,

it's a lot harder than you think.

you have to be from the South, like me
or the North, like I want to be
or somewhere entirely more interesting than Dallas
and you have to have the ginger gene
(because there's no way I'm having
blonde children)
and you have to like aquariums
specifically the seahorses

don't wear too much cologne or
pastels and don't ever smell like
frat parties, barbecue, or beer
and DON'T ever say that ballet is stupid.

you have to ask before we choose
the restaurant because I don't eat Italian
or Thai or Greek or Subway
and you have to hold the door open for me
even if we're in my own room.

listen to my monologues for class
and rattled-off to-do lists
as you lazily push the basket
and I grab it from you because you're going too slow
and mockingly call you a princess

know that I am busy, VERY busy
in fact so busy that I may not see you
because I am an independent woman
and there are stories to be built, dragons to be slayed,
and there are things my hands must finish
before I can start on holding yours

make fun of my Crocs
and the way I hiccup out of nowhere
and the days that I don't have time to eat breakfast
so I bring a Fuzzy's cup to class
full of off-brand Cap'n Crunch
shoving handfuls into my mouth between
snide remarks about Morrison
while you laugh inside your eyes
about what a cynic I pretend to be

hate me when I tell you
that I don't need a hug
and that I'd rather be dating Hemingway
or that I have rehearsal
painting cities, building histories

ignore my comments about you needing to shave
or on how I think I'd rather I'd never get married
and live the rest of my days writing stories
with organic vegetables and rainy days and
walks in the Carolinas

call me a ***** when I'm being one
(because I know I am about 97% of the time)
and tell me you would help me
if I would ever let you
whether it be Christmas lights or
physics lab or the gnawing pain
of lonely lonely lonely

let me read my books, propped up on
my pillows and nestled into a glaze
and let me have my expectations
of Rochesters and Darcys
even though I say I don't
and when I have to sew a blanket for class
and I say the stitching looks awful
tell me no, it doesn't
because I desperately want you
to know that my favorite color is lavender
and I love watermelon and stationery and
online shopping at 2 am
and I desperately want to know
your elementary school, your favorite song,
your middle name
even though I pretend I don't

and sometimes when I say I'm right
and you know that I know I'm wrong
just pick up your spirals and turn to leave,
then stop and say
"my favorite book is Gatsby, too."

and smile and call me crazy.

it's a lot easier than you think.

it turns out love isn't butterflies and fairytales
it's a rubber band
so yeah, maybe not the most romantic image
but no matter what pulls us apart
we pull back even closer

that feeling like your heart's gonna beat out of my chest?
it doesn't last. but you know what? i don't miss it.
it can't compete with having you finish my sentences
with knowing that no one else is just like you


"i want you to hold me and adore me" is child's play
i grew up with you, i'll grow old with you
watching our lives unfold will be more beautiful than any jewel
and every tomorrow will be the greatest gift