We were fifteen
Writing stories in our skin with long nails and steak knives
Girls in my friend group would starve themselves for fun
My girlfriend used to tell me that she overdosed
Just to see how I would react

Sometimes I’m surprised we’re all still living
Maybe not alive but not dead either
I still spend most of my nights crying
Growing up is funny like that

At twenty I question how any of us made it through highschool
My old friends survive off of little pink pills and Smirnoff
You could drink ***** out of their collar bones
I can see the sadness in their bones, visible through translucent skin
How were we better off at fifteen

I still can’t smell blood without wanting to throw up
Jagged skin makes me nostalgic for a love I never should’ve had
Whenever I see a tombstone I think of him

At seventeen a teacher asked what I wanted to be
How badly I wanted to say happy
I never imagined I’d make it past eighteen

I once thought there wasn't any life outside of this town,
but I was okay with that because it had everything I needed.
But what do I know?
We are all so young,
running through parks,
climbing up mountaintops.
Strolling past all the shops
and driving around this town going nowhere in particular,
I thought that it simply could not get better than this.

We loved each other like the stars
I thought that nothing could separate us.
We were sure to last,
but little did we know
that all these days will belong to the past,
and everything that we always did
now live on pages on thousands of papers
and in pictures tucked away in a box of old things.

Happiness was in the air that day
when we all were together once again.
The moon shined bright that night,
lighting the path that we once drove down every day.
This city just seems so small now that I have broken all its walls.

I drive past all the places we left marks on in this city.
The now vacant houses that once held so many memories,
the lunch table where our love blossomed,
the midnight drives to the movies,
getting excited over slushies,
and the lakes we learned to float.
I look back on all these places
and think about all the things we ever did,
I simply thought that it could not get any better than this.

Setting the new year on fire.
Dancing to the sounds of Grease.
Picking peaches in celebration of spring.
Watching all the bands we ever loved.
I would forget all my stress and worries thinking about it all.
Can it get any better than this?
                                                                  
I want to thank this town for all the stories I wrote.
All the times we felt like children.
All the times we rose with the sun.
All the times I felt loved by all the people that were my stars.

As I'm driving through this town and watch it grow smaller in my eyes,
I imagine a time when I was not alone.
I know getting older can seem quite strange at times,
but what do I know?
All I know is that there is just so much to see,
and sometimes the grass isn't always green as it used to be.
But as long as I have these memories,
it couldn't get any better than this.

You are autumn.
Chilly outside, but inside, you are warm.
Being around you is like being curled up indoors with a book,
Wrapped in your own universe. Maybe some hot cocoa, a little sugar.
Maybe tea, bittersweet and rich with thought.
You are colours bursting with life,
Blazing reds and yellows against a brilliant blue sky.

You are serien.
Peace.
You are the leaves that crunch,
when you step on them.
You are the smell on August chilly mornings
That melts into a sunshine filled paradise.

You are autumn.

You are also winter.
Frostbitten on the outside in a facade of cold,
Bitterness that has built up through the year.
But underneath all that you are clear, starry skies.
You illuminate things when it is least expected.

Underneath the cold you bring warmth
Comfort and shelter from the raging storms outside.

You are waking up curled in blankets on a bed
That calls for you as you try to wake.

You are a hug when it feels like nothing is going right.

You are winter
You are fall

I wish you were mine.

Find me across the room,
I am the silent morning.
I've known your name for centuries,
but mines still just a foreign language to you.
My tongue is tied
and you're lost in translation,
But that's just how these things will remain.
My body sings every time
because your smile is like a melody.
You light me up
shining brighter than the moon and stars.
I'll follow your voice to the beginning of our first hellos.
You're a perfect afternoon.
We could sing away evenings with the radio.
Drive to places only we would know
where there would be nobody but you and me.
So please won't you come talk to me
because you see my words are lost
and my knees are shaking like trees in the wind.
I hope it doesn't come as a surprise that you light up the room.
Every time I see you I hold my breath
and my mind goes blank.
So I suppose I'll just always be on the other side of the room,
loving you from afar.

Yes, math is important.
No, I’m not denying that.
Yet, you, my teacher,
My instructor, guide, mentor
Do not need to act this way.
You say that if I can’t do this math,
I will never be successful in any career.
You said that if I can’t understand
Something as “simple” as this,
I will never make it in the real world.
Don’t deny that you said those words,
Because the whole class heard you.
What about my English, my writing,
The things I will never, in a million years,
Work with math for?
Are you telling me I’m going to fail in that?
It’s just an B- in your class, it’s not
The end of the world.
Maybe I don’t learn the way you’re teaching,
Maybe I need to do things differently,
Maybe I’m struggling with things at home.
Maybe I could say that your math is as
Pointless as you say my writing is.

I don’t think some of you know
How much you mean to me.
Every time the bell rings, and
I see you coming out of your class,
Reliable, every day,
Calming me and reassuring me that
No matter what is happening,
The world is still moving.
Every time you smile at me in class,
Even though we don’t really talk,
It brightens my day and
Makes me realize that maybe
Mankind isn’t so bad after all.
Every time we share a laugh,
A football game, a tough test,
A change in the school,
I grow closer to each and every one of you,
Even though you don’t realize it.
But when that final bell rings,
Will you be there?
Will you be with me past final exams,
Graduation,
After the final bell?
Because you will know who your real friends are
When the final bell rings.