I believe in equality. In life and death. In the ever existent turning of the earth and the burning heat of the sun.
I believe in equality. In people’s hearts and minds. In the rights that we choose to indulge in. And the ones we choose to ignore.
I believe in equality. In the little things. The common phrases. The not-so-common courtesies that we extend.
I believe in equality. For those who are well respected. For those who barely exist. For those who cannot afford to pay for their own meals.
I believe in equality. As human beings. As men. As women. As whatever the hell you want to be. As whoever you are, have been, and will become.
I believe in equality.

I am a disappointment to my mother.
I don’t call when I’ll be coming home late. My room is wreck. I’m not in school, and I work two dead end jobs at places that don’t matter one iota to anyone in my family.
I curse. I smoke. I drink.
I’m a foul mouthed little child that can’t lose weight and sleeps around and never does what she’s told.
I’m a disappointment to my mother,
Despite the years of good behaviour. The good grades, the chaste life, the driven nature that took me half way around the world just to see if I could do it.
I stand in front of her today, still 6 inches shorter. Still rounder, still brunette. Still foul mouthed and still rebellious.
I still hug her tightly as if she’s all I’ve ever had. As if she is the only stability I’ve ever known. As if all those boyfriends who claimed they’d never leave either of us, as if all of those friends she had that I grew to love, and the pets we abandoned, and the apartments we called home, as if all of those things never mattered, or shaped me to be the distrustful little being I am today.
I still look at her like she’s all I have left. I never talk to her about stuff like that because I know it will only make her mad. Her hormonal short temper and her distrust of my judgement. I know I’m young, Mom, that’s why you should let me make my mistakes now, instead of in ten years when I’m married with children and never got to taste what being wrong in every way felt like.
I’m a disappointment to my mother. I want to have bad times. And hard times. I want to be knocked on my *** by life and barely able to get back up. She doesn’t get it.
She never will. I love her. With all that I am I will always love her but that trust that was once only reserved the only person who never left me, never deserted me and never gave up on me, that trust needs to be placed in me.
I am a disappointment to my mother because I grew up, and now I need to be a disappointment to me.

Take me back to the land of sausage and mustard eggs.
Thick, meaty, juicy hunks of meat. Cylindrical and delicious, I miss the sensation of snapping the end of one off into my mouth fresh off of a grill.
Lounging on the castle lawn. Speaking three different languages in one conversation. Drinking confusing juice and cuddling up next to bonfires and talking all night long.
Sleeping in a cardboard box that needed a little ******. Loving new people every day.
Singing. All day long. Getting the words wrong until the leaves rustled just the right way reminded us what were trying to say.
I miss the Mother Land. The chill mornings and colder afternoons. Frozen over duck ponds and introducing the natives to the glory of tacos.
Ich liebe dich Deutschland. Holen Sie mich Haupt Ihnen.

Though the hours grow fewer

And my dreams ever smaller

I desire the same things

As when I was a child

I want to count every

single

star

while I’m lying in your arms

I want to sing

belt out

every song I’ve ever heard

we used to sound so good together

you and me

against the night

battling the inevitable morning

The last warm glimpse of the humanity
The last time I felt the love that everyone ever told me I deserved
The last time
The last time I let go of everything I never should have given one iota of a **** about

The first time I've been alone
Truly known that solitude felt like
Knowing what I'm missing and replacing it with an entire reality that is completely subpar
Death
Death and knowing nothing at all
Seems to be welcoming most of the time
The last time
The last hour
The last few moments
Aren't they all the same?
The same as any other hour that we have ever been given the grace to live
Death comes early for anyone
There are always more seconds to live
One more conversation of total import that could have been shared
with someone
anyone at all
The last few words that we spoke could have always been followed with an entire recitation of what we wish we could have known
The things we wish could have learned
The people that we never got the chance to love
The ones that were always doomed to lose

Old, we die. "It's our time."
Young, we perish. "What a tragedy."

There is no right or wrong time for a death.
It's not the end of a book or the cease fire of the raging war inside of us.
It continues on in the next generation of who we are.
It continues on after we're gone.

Nothing ever ends completely.
Everyone leaves a legacy.
Sometimes, it's nothing special.
Sometimes, it's a never-ending joke that your friends and family still tell years later, long after they have tragically forgotten that you ever existed.
Sometimes, its a small bit of wisdom that is always prefaced by "Well, my old friend always told me.."

Sometimes, though, it's nothing more than a wisp of emotions. That small secret longing that never gets named. There is no label for it, no way to tell what it is, but it's all that's left after your dead and gone, and it's all you'll ever have.

Everything I do
It's all wrapped up in you
It's like our thoughts are on the same baking sheet, running together as the heat increases
Forming one big lump of something delicious
I was just trying to finagle my way into getting there
And now you're going
Alone
Alone for a whole month
Maybe you'll be better when you're back
Maybe you'll want me around again
I understand needing space but you clearly aren't living in solitude
That's what hurts I guess
The other people you're surrounding yourself with
You'd rather them, than me
They've been toxic for years
I've been a salve for the last one
I'm still confused
I'm still sad
I will probably still cry for hours and make bad decisions with even worse people
You won't be there when I need you because I'll be too scared to talk to you when I can't handle life
I won't want you there when I cry because I'll be crying over you
Over
and
Over
and over.
The memories replay in my mind
No more late night excursions into further knowing each other and wandering around never getting lost because you always know where you are.
No more late night talks about anything.
No more I love yous.
No more texts that make me laugh in inappropriate situations.
No more small encouragements when I feel at my worst.
I miss you like you're gone. Even though I know you're not.
But while
I may be dead to you

The worst part is

I’m dead inside

Of course I still care

about you

I love you

until there is no more of me left

I will love you

I will always be sad when I think of you

And remember that we were supposed to be those special

Forever

Friends

I will always mourn the misunderstanding that ended us

The ridiculous notion that I didn’t appreciate you for exactly who you were

For the person that lives inside of you

Just waiting for you to discover him

I won’t let him die.

I will keep him alive in my heart and I will love him until the end of all that I know

I will never stop loving you

I’m breaking half thinking about you

Jack helps

But he’s an expensive friend to keep around

I’m thinking of checking out

Just leaving everyone behind and becoming someone no one will recognize

I’m a fan of that

I’m a fan of being something totally different for the time being

Taking the time to know that it’s not who I am

But what I do

That drives people away

Because you don’t deserve me right now

You don’t deserve to realize that I’m actually pretty great

I will remember everything you say

I will take it all to heart

And I will shower you with love when you let me

But for now

I’m gone
And
As the nicotine numbs my lips
And everyone tells me I’m better off

I deserve better
I don’t need you

That you’re being spiteful 

And mean

I can’t accept it 

Even though you’ve ripped out my heart 

And part of my soul

Grinding them up into dust 

I can’t listen to people put you down

I can’t accept what they are saying 

Shame on me

For thinking so little of myself 

If anyone else had done this to me 

You’d be furious 

Yelling at me about all the same things everyone is telling me about you 

Love and blood and sweat and tears be ****** 

I won’t let you break me 

It doesn’t matter that I’m doing it for who I thought you were
It matters that its happening