it's about the time of year
that i get sad again
it's about the time of year
that i found out you were dying,
i didn't know if you'd be here at christmas

it's about the time of year
where you started slurring words
and forgetting things too,
but you bought me those boots for christmas
and told me about them a month early
you were so happy about them

it's about the time of year
where i can't breathe
i don't know if it's because of asthma
or if i'm imagining
how it felt to breathe like that

it's about the time of year
where i'd imagine i was on a boat
in the middle of a faraway lake in the UP
i'm a child again and she's much younger too
she's not sick, she's not dying

it's about the time of year
where cancer took my nonni's brain
and made her forget who she was
and how to do things

it's about the time of year
where i cried myself to sleep every night
and prayed to God,
that he'd take anyone but her, take me instead

You said you loved my eyes my smile at night,
You could look at them forever...
You whispered sweet compliments in my ear,
Though I never believe it.
I love the way you make me feel...
Like for the first time in my life I can breathe,
Feeling you hold me close half asleep,
Makes me think maybe there really is such thing as peace....

your
hands
feel like dandelions
drifting
in
a summer breeze
when
you
touched me

maybe you're just a dream
only for dreaming.
maybe you're destined to just stay there in my mind.

nothing like going back
to the golden days
when getting up 20 minutes earlier
was a fun thing
to put on a bit of mascara
and lipgloss;
the blush was natural.
now 20 minutes of sleep
seems like a treasure,
worth everything
and never to be given up.
back when laughter was sunflower yellow,
music was neon blue,
and friends were a sweet purple,
their smiles like lavender
addicting and easy to find.
nothing like going back
to the golden days
when choosing the font for a paper
was an hour long experience;
the funnest part of writing anything.
now no writing matters
to anyone
unless it's 12pt font,
Times New Roman,
double spaced,
and with a heading in the top left corner.
back when school was light,
homework was a breeze,
and the only thunderstorms
were those that involved
coffee shops, window seats,
and copious amounts of hot chocolate.
nothing like going back
to the golden days
filled with warmth
and honey
and a whole lot of butterflies.