it's a lot like standing in the rain
without an umbrella and
wondering why the ****
you didn't think it could rain.

I hope for a time of freedom
and liberation from you.

I hope for a time when your words
will not matter and your thoughts, too.

I hope for a time to bring new love
and memories that will push you away.

You never pushed.
You never pulled.
You sat there
while I scrambled.

All I asked was to be loved
the way I did you -unconditionally.

So, yes, I dare to hope for someone
the opposite of the complete you.

Life is scary. You know?

Not the kind of scary you get from horror movies or a haunted house.
Not the kind of scary like when you think you forgot your keys locked in the car.
Not the kind of scary like when you think one of your friends finally decided to leave this world for good.
Not the kind of scary that is sharp needle point followed by the release of realization.

No.
Life is not that kind of scary.

It's the kind of scary that follows you closely.
It's the kind of scary that shakes you awake at night just to let you stare back at its void.
It's the kind of scary that sits on your shoulder and taunts you for every waking second that it can take you when it pleases.
It's the kind of scary that pulls your blood from your arteries.
It's the kind of scary that revels in the sight of your tears.

It's the kind of scary that lingers, persists, torments, and never, ever leaves.

do not date a girl
who writes.
she will internalize
everything,
carve poems
into your eyelashes
instead of
kissing them,

she will analyze you,
calculate age
from the rings
your coffee cup
leaves
instead of refilling it.

she will memorize
the way your
lips curl around steam,
but not that you
take it
two sugars,
no cream.

she will read your
palm instead of
holding it
against her chest.

she will not
blink
when you leave,
because she is
already
romanticizing it.

when my son was younger
he asked -

how old are the mountains
from where did the First People come
why does the sun sleep in the ocean
what is the color of rain

now that my son is older
stronger, wiser and bolder
he asks -

how old are the mountains...
...what is the color of rain


some things don't change.