Be Something

I want to go home and tell You all my secrets.

Whisper my entire heart through Your ear, to Your soul.

I would speak of how much i miss You.

Your calming presence, magical wisdom, and entertaining adventure.

Your pureness to know me for me.

Starting new seems impossible and completely unreachable.

Its been a while, and i still ache for all You are.

Your fathers sweater, those navy cords, Your circle glasses

The hazelnut coffee, bottles of wine, all of our hiding spots.

When we watched the sunset, we spoke of its colors, and shapes, and beauty.

You are the only one to seek out the stars at night and wonder what else there is.

You made life simple, and easy, and beautiful.

Our affection was rare and raw; the core of two beings entwined.

Holding hands. Your strong, soft hands.

They held my heavy heart, and wrote love letters from far away.

The music floated in unison through our insides, a soundtrack downloaded after Christmas.

Although Your grand advice is tacked above my bed, hand written, and almost memorized,

I am not enough to take it.

" The most vital part of an experience like this is not to languish in the bitterness or to become intoxicated by the sweetness, but to take comfort of tender memories and set them side by side with the cold realization that they are over. "

The phrase burdens myself. I simply can not take Your advice.

Yes friend, You still are my heart.

Yes i will still write. You will still write.

I will still read. You will still read.

At least we can still be somewhere.

At least we can still be something.

First Monday

i am done with school. with high school.

with drama dressed in low slung tank tops and sparkle lip balm.

with last names and their logo Polo's and new basketball shoes.

with soup-in-a-can smelling classrooms and hand sanitizer.

with rocket man and his diabetes.

with the scuba diver and his yard stick.

with the Brett Farve shrine and too much quiz bowl.

with red pens and check marks. (13 out of 30.)

with equations and calculators and numbers with letters.

with mandatory pep rallies and social football games.

with silver glitter prom nights and dinner down my dress.

with weekly dehydration and coffee drives between class.

with her and him and mr. and mrs.

i am done with school. with high school.

Sometimes you have to look reality in the eye and deny it. If you only look at the what is, you may never attain what could be.

now i study durning summer. graduate of 2009. i will not survive another year...at least not sane.