I love how your clothes are always either two sizes two big or two sizes to small.
I love how you look in the mirror and slowly realize something is different but cannot tell what.
I love the way people exclaim, "I almost didn't recognize you, you've really grown up!"
I love the way your story slowly builds up into one only you I can tell.
I love the paradox, because all this growing will eventually leave me worn out
old
empty
wrinkled
a scrunched up brown paper bag trampled in the street.

who are you?
i asked while drifting in the sea
then closed my eyes
the too red sun beating down on me
but the question was still there
not letting me sleep or dream
tangled in my hair
breathing in the air
and I was scared

I just wanted to write a poem
And have it disappear into infinity
Not looking for validity
That it was only loved by me.

Just when you really love someone
You hold the words close
Like a firefly in you hands
Because if you open them to show someone
It could fly away into the clouds.

But now my room is overflowing
With things longing to escape
But I lock the door
Because I know once they leave
I’ll forget what they looked like.

She was there, I was not.
The one that cared in that empty lot.
Standing against the bricks, uncertain of what's next.
Reading her face like a black bold text.
She had chosen the other side, away from me.
I had to let her go, but I hated to see her leave.
She walked away and my heart broke.
Tossing, turning, then I awoke.