No matter what happens during the day,
I think about how I'll tell you.
And everything I do,
I want you to see.

I often think of how we walk.
My hand on your left side,
yours resting on my shoulders.

Or how we sit.
Two bottles of wine on the table.
We talk untill the tears are no longer able to wash away with alcohol.
And than you do not comfort me.
As you and I both know,
I find comfort in just being there
with you.

Sometimes I quickly think of you.
Sometimes in bed,
on a party,
always shortly in the kitchen.
And I know I won't be finished living,
untill there's someone loving me
the same amount I love you now.

We strip down to our souls.
And we wear softer voices,
as we lay
imprisoned in bodies and sheets.
We rest our heads on the idea of safety and
we warm our hands on affection.
Your lips melt deep into my skin,
as my fingertips burn through yours.
Tangle me with words and whispers,
which I can not hear
but understand.
And I will try and do anything
to stop the world from shifting for even a minute,
just to lie with you one more.

I found a picture of our family
about thirteen years ago.
You look at us
with pride and love.
Yesterday I saw you walking around your house
and I couldn't help but wonder
What has happened within those years
that made you lost your strength?
Who transformed you from
strongest woman I knew
to
exhausted and scared?

We all have the right to choose
our own way to misery.

I saw a chimpanzee baby,
getting raised by a dog.
I saw an elderly man
cut his food for his uncapable wife
and
I saw a young couple looking at them
wanting to grow old together just the same.
I saw my mother
taking care of her new baby
now we have grown up.
I saw my uncle taking care of me
(He knows we haven't).
A woman trying to find a childs new home.
A child saving an ant from death.
And a boy replacing a girl's bad memories with good ones.
It reminds me, that it's not so bad.

I adore you.
The freckle just below your right eye.
How you are able to make eating taco's in a onesy with sauce all over my face feel like a date.
I adore your stupid selfies,
the cat sounds you make.
(I'm even starting to like all of your stamp tattoos.)
I adore your ****. And how you feel like you shouldn't like it when I touch it.
I adore how you adore your friends.
How you held me last night.

I adore everything I find out about you, and I hate it that I do.

I hate how little I hate you.
It's gonna hurt.

Hey dad,
I will be turning eightteen next week.
You probably don't know that.
I'm doing good you know.
I found a house and a study I like.
And a boy who maybe likes me.
I got used to my anxiety attacks,
so the last few times I wasn't terrified.
I have a man in my life,
who replaces you.
And he makes me a happier girl.
I think I even know how to deal with mom.

Everything's great, dad.
But still I wonder if you think about me
as much as I hurt by you.