Ya know how sometimes
you can eat a certain food for
your whole life and never
really apreciate it untill you
don't have it for like 8 months?

Then, when you finally do eat it
again, it's like a whole new
thing and you never realized
how good it was in the first
place, even though it had been
staring you in the face for years?

Well, that's how I fell in love
with you- never appreciating
how great you were then all at
once it hit me, like a suprise
summer rainstorm.

When I say "I miss you"
it's not just an automatic response
like when people say
How are you I'mfine
or
It wasn't my fault
or
You have the right to remain silent!
These are just normal, day-to-day conversations
and I forget we need them sometimes
But
I do not have the right to remain silent
when after I write ten times how much I miss you,
and that I think about you every time I check the mail,
or make a peanutbutter sandwich,
and all you write is a lousy "Lol. K."
I do NOT have the right to remain silent
when how much I miss you is as big as the rain,
the rainbow, and the *** of gold at the end of it,
when how much I miss you hurts so much
that it makes me wonder what it feels like to not feel like this,
I will not remain silent when you just say,
'miss u 2'
because I miss you in that stalker-ish way
that the waiter misses serving you your morning coffee
because he thinks you're kinda cute
or the way that girl always finds a way to walk by you
even though you rejected her other other night
and she clearly isn't over you...
When I'm sick of how "I miss you"
doesn't make the universe
implode
and it's disappointing when you don't hear everyone in the world screaming "Yes" at
the same time
I want you to hear the silence
when you see me off at the airport, train station, wherever,
I want "I miss you" backwards to spell "Because, that's why"
instead of having a reason why I called you.
I want to not run out of things to say when I finally
call you
I want "I miss you" to mean
everything again, including, I love you, you're so awesome,
what does your new haircut look like, and unfortunately
our own lives are so messy
that distance no longer makes sense
But,
hey,
I guess our memories were worth it.

the air isn't pinching, it nibbles my skin as I catch the scent of
remorse and a hint of peanutbutter and honey,
tangy and sweet I wish I weren't that way sometimes,
I wish I could see the worm in an apple instead of
the seeds

You are the ying, to my yang,
The zing to my zang,
The peanutbutter to my jelly,
The reason for these butterflies, I feel in my belly,
And believe me when I tell you,
All of this is true, because baby, we both know,
Im completely and unconditionally,
In love with you.

I have five sweaters of him in my room.
Because he never says no to me.
He lit my cigarette once,
when I was bathing and my hands were wet.
He taught me how to cook, how to climb,
how to like peanutbutter.
When I feel like ****, he calls me.
Because he feels there's something wrong.
He tells everybody I'm his daughter.
Even when my sister is around.
He tells my mother to man up.
And my friends to try acid.
He likes every single boyfriend I have.
Never thinks I'm making bad decisions.
He takes me with him to France.

I love him more than anybody in this world.
I don't need a father. I have him.

You know I ate too much
I should have stopped with my two sausages and beans
Then I had the shortcake and milk
And peanutbutter

Geeze---
I guess I was trying to fill something
The loneliness, the emptiness

I just got a full stomach instead and I'm still alone

it's 2oclock in the morning on election night.i am driving over to the east end
projects with my mother in a blue minivan.

my nana
is having  another nervous breakdown. she's already called 911 twice about a rattle snake in her kitchen closet .
we get there to find a
peanutbutter-and-jelly sandwich cut into
three uneven peices
it's
wrapped in clear plastic,
set aside for a nonexistent maintenance man who fell out of the bathroom window
  while painting it.

we learn her very living daughter has died in a motor vehicle accident while in transit to see her husband, my grandfather- who died when i was in second grade.

she explains to me how she shut the closet door in such a fashion as to make the enclosed space entirely    airtight.
she
won't let us open the door.
she
laments the ****** of the snake by her
deeds.

the conversation turns to the positioning of
furniture.

we spend an hour and a half there.i
check the results on my
phone
i don't think i can go to thanksgiving
anymore.
a few neighborhoods away,my girlfriend is

crying
my nana        explains various recent births
in
the family that are untrue and
biologically
impossible.
most of the stories involve people  
supposedly
   next door.or in the basement

she talks about Elizabeth
who doesn't exist.

we go home after she finishes her peach
yogurt

i spend ten minutes outside my house , zigzagging around the block.

i catch my first snorlax
who
is my favorite pokemon.

it is a foolishly low cp

You're not a friend of someone when you talk one time to him
You're also not a friend when you can laugh one time with him
You're friends when you can talk about
Paintings,
Food,
Haircolor,
The backspace button on your keybord,
Peanutbutter.
You're friends when you accept who he is
Gay
Straight
Muslim
Soccer player
Tennis player
Pineapple on pizza
      (Disgusting)
You're friends when you can be yourself