I know what I have with you is real because I used to hate looking in the mirror and now it's all I ever do.  I'm always taking pictures and sending them to you without even second glancing them. I used to hate the way my stomach folded over my underwear, but now I'm always laying naked with you. I know what we have is real because I see potential in myself I never thought I could obtain.  And for the first time, my dreams are higher than my insecurities.  I know what we have is real because the pain I used to inflict on myself seems like such an obscure way to handle things, but at the time it seemed completely rational.  Now I realize how scary that is.  I know what we have is real because every time I look at you I forget every bad thing that's ever happened to me.  I forget about the time my mother took back the man who gave me a concussion.  I forget about the time whats-his-name threw me into a locker for going to see a movie with my girl friends.  I forget about the time that one guy tried to have *** with me when I was 13 and he was a senior.  I forget about how he put my hand around his **** because I refused to give him a *******.  I forget how I begged him to let me call my mom, even though I knew I'd face consequences for sneaking out with my girl friend so she could see her boyfriend. I know what I have with you is real because for the past 4 years I've thrown up 90% of my meals.  I haven't thrown up in months because I love the skin I'm in.       I know what we have together is real because I used to never think dying was a big deal.  I thought, "well, why is it a big deal? I'll be dead, there's no way I could be sad about dying."  Now, I take precautions to stay alive.  Now, I don't want to die.  I want to be alive.  I don't think bucket lists are silly anymore.  I don't think it's okay to be at random parks alone at 3 AM drugged out of my mind.  I don't think, "whatever happens to me happens."  I know what we have together is real because the second I met you was the second I regained my innocence.  The day we met was the day I began to fall back in love with myself and see who I am through your eyes, which is oh so differently than my fallacious vision.

¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯
this old
decrepit barn
reminds me of a tale
my grandfather
once told

it took him
a life to tell it
but he told it well

this barn has
been here
as far back as I
care to remember
but there's a beautiful
story kept in that
old place—
the story
of a good
man's life

it is a marvelous story
it was a beautiful life

it was filled with
responsibility
compassion
generosity
kindness
charge
love

a­ll these things
and a lifetime
more

but
the closure
warms my heart
more than anything
and we all had our
part to play in
the end

we gathered
thirty-two-strong
around that tiny little bed
in that pitiful room all
smushed together
and recycling
each other's
unwanted air

it was our duty
and none of us wanted
to help him tie that final ribbon
but we soldiered on
for his sake

and we all witnessed
the fruits of his labor

as one voice went
a song to accompany
that ominous death rattle—
it was a joyous song of
worship and
praise to
God
for His
blessings
and yet a tune
eerily timed by the
awkward percussion
of a tired and dying man

so that song
went over and over

and i heard him whistle
lightly along with us
like he used to with
that same ol' hymn
on his heart—his
children and his
grandchildren

that song
went over again

and i saw him look at me
with that crooked grin
and he nodded
letting me know
everything was
"copacetic"

and that song
went over still

and i heard him
laugh over the pain
and over the tears
and over our
resounding
voices

that song
went over
as he whistled
and grinned
and laughed
one last time

but he couldn't

and his lips didn't smile
and his eyes didn't open
and his lungs struggled
to take in as much
as they could
of that stale
unwanted air

so he must've
only listened

it was then
i realized
his only
life goal was
to breathe in that
air de trop and to be
there in that cramped
box with one window
one cheaply made door
and one unfortunately
unfilled closet which
was wide open and
occupied by two
or three more
beautiful
voices
for the sake
of space

so we all soldiered on
for the sake of closure
and for his sake
and for our sake
and for my sake

and for the first time

i had fully grasped
the concept of the
family unit

in my mind
we were no longer
separate and connected
only by heritage

we are blood

what
courses
through
his veins
his legacy
his essence

for he taught me that on
some bright morning
when my life is over
i'll fly away to that home
on God's celestial shore..

for he taught us all to sing

I'll fly away! O Glory!
I'll fly away! When I die,
"Hallelujah" by and by!
I'll fly away!

and
that joyous song
was finally over then

and at that very moment
with one final thump on
that beautiful drum
and with one final
breath of that
coveted
stagnant air
in that modest
one-window room
we watched as
our voices
found
their
purpose

and they carried
him home with a song
for the sake of
his heart
as he left behind
this old decrepit barn
for the sake of
ours