The sounds of morning
roused me from a deep slumber.
The clouds grew tumid.

Songbirds of the day
kept me company and we
held the rain at bay.

A gentle twilight
broke the slow afternoon’s back;
a drizzle followed.

The sky wept last night;
the storm faded in hiccups.
Now the earth is dry.

In my life I have learned 10 important truths:

1. You can't trust anybody that likes Nickelback because if they willfully listen to bad music you don't know what other bad life choices they will make

2. If a girl starts a conversation with "I just think its funny how..." you are about to die. I hope you have an eject button or a eulogy prepared, but preferably both

3. If a boy tells you he wants you to meet his family, he is definitely in love with you

4. You're going to experience heartbreak that hurts so bad you can't even get crying right. But just because you're hurt doesn't mean you're a victim and hurting others doesn't make you right

5. Never go to a wedding alone

6. White chocolate is just chocolate that got cold feet about being edible

7. Definitely eat that piece of pie because treat yoself

8. Definitely regret that whole pie later so then you have to treat yourself

9. Realize you are going to be okay

10. Write a really bad poem about it all

Memories of my past
Wait to be washed away
Like the dirt that hides
Underneath my fingernails

Mine, mine, mine –
the pain is mine,
I can bear it.

Mine, mine, mine –
The shame is mine,
I can wear it.

Feel the brittle glass,
a couple of knocks
and it will shatter.

I have a spine of steel,
throw your rocks,
it doesn’t matter.

Watch me burn,
with cool disdain,
I won’t bemoan it.

This trainwreck is mine,
my hellfire to maintain,
witness how I own it.

I am not tired,
I say as you turn on a film
and I fall asleep.

The weight of almost thoughts sink my legs into the Earth

While the almost words balloon red in my cheeks and ears

Because this ****** Doo quicksand ***** at my torso but not any more than my desire to go under

I'm going to a doctor soon, or a counselor, or a friendly stranger, or whatever, and I worry about the verdict to be passed over my head

Like the pills they prescribe will meet in combat the almost thoughts that turn my brain to a battlefield that just wants to go home but already is

Like my serotonin vocal cords that softly saunter siren songs should be given a megaphone to tell all the almost words that their echo chambers just got nuked from orbit

The fingers that send daily update texts are the same ones that want to let go of the steering wheel, not because I want to die, but because I don't want to be the one responsible for hurting you

So I'll bludgeon the sand with my two left feet until I turn it into enough glass to build a shade-stained stairwell back into my regularly scheduled programming

"I'm not there yet", I say
"Ah, but almost", I think

I was born on the twelfth day of the year
Just in time to be the last disciple but not soon enough that you'll remember my name
I'm the third of four children
Which is to say, I'm 75% sure that I know what I'm doing
I prefer even numbers and odd people
My ideal date is public people watching
Because if two people can unwrite a strangers life story then maybe they can use that to write their own
I'm an extremely picky eater
The only green things I like are cucumbers and money
And I'm far pickier than my personality permits
I've been told I'm quiet
But I'm the kind of quiet you should be afraid of
The kind of quiet that is observant enough to unmake you
The kind of quiet that does so to himself
I've got a poker face you wouldn't believe because I don't always either
I keep my cards close to the chest, sometimes too close to read
I believe that the best people tell the worst jokes
So you'll understand when I tell you that I only wear black ankle cut socks, gray if I'm feeling frisky
My best dream is finding someone to be alone with
My worst nightmare is that I never do
I was born a dozen days into 1996
Like being the last donut in the box and make no mistake I'm a sweet treat you'll have trouble working off
I guess what I'm saying is: my name is Braden
Will you remember that?

Isn't love just a merry-go-round?
That old carnival staple in the center of the lot
Where the operator packs on too many people, turns it up too fast, and then gets mad when you throw up on the ride?
Every time you see one, its comprised of little kids and old people
She gets to ride the pony, because ponies are for girls
You get to ride the bear, because she took the pony
Both of you agree to take it slow at first
Take in all the flashing lights and the deep fried aroma
Until one of you decides your arms don't need to stay in your vehicle anymore
Two celestial bodies pulled closer together by that unseen thing called gravity
The world spins faster when you're with them
Time moves quicker when you're together
If time travel were possible this must be how its done
But sooner or later it becomes less merry, and more go-round
Round and round it goes, when it stops, nobody knows

My freshman year is a reclamation. a reclamation of how I can't play both patient and doctor. My freshman year was supposed to be the second chance that I thought my dad wanted, my freshman year was where the excuses were not accepted anymore by professors nor by me. All of freshman year I lived with my dad. I tell people, its to save money, it's convenient, it's bonding, while in all honesty living with my dad has been the time I feel the farthest from him, maybe cause we started with a crash start, maybe I just happened just like childhood just like my life. my freshman year was a reclamation, a reclamation that if I'm 5 or 50 miles away from home, my mom has me like gravity. when I come back home it may take some time for her gravitational pull to set in but doesn't take a semester, a school year, a high school, a life, for her to be there, to stay there and to be my foundation, my reclamation.

To the person who stole my bike, you got more than just a pair of wheels or your next thrill. you have a semester at your feet. you have a transportative transformed version of me at your disposal. just like me it's rugged, beat up, and loyal to whomever it has a hand commands it, but not loyal enough where it stays in the owner's possession. to the thief, treat it better than I did, treat it often, cause if you're getting the same ride I got out of it, it will either break down on you or **** you but just like me, it won't die. just sleep. to the thief, I wish you stole my bike and got hit when you biked in the street. to the thief, take care of it better than I did.