Stars Were Made Here

It was summertime
and we were young.
Is that too cliche?

Us crossing paths was really a mistake.
What if we never did?
What if
the universe kept us apart,
for a little bit longer?

We weren’t ready to see the stars
that we made.
What if
it could have all been different?

Crisscross on flannels
(we couldn’t afford anything better)
I lay out our options like a feast -
ready for you to choose me.

We couldn’t make it work
(but, I gave you my all)

We almost didn’t meet -
that day where everything was going wrong,
except seeing you -

but, we did. And we created stars
and stitched them into the clothing
on our backs and wore them
with pride.

What if
the universe had held on
to our distance?
(I swear, not much longer)
Instead of getting thrown into that
hurricane of- gosh, what if,
I hadn't been there,
that day I first saw you?

It all could have been different.
Or not.

I would never go back.
You gave me scars made out of thrift clothes
and stole kisses and vanilla cupcakes from
my pantry. Don't you see?

Girl, you taught me to dream.

nice things that exist

that crick in your neck when you're looking at books
sometimes violets pop up early
there is always chocolate
it's fun to get letters in the mail

things are going to be ok.

rainbows happen (or you can just draw some)
there are babysitters getting bored of peek-a-boo
drinking really cold water when you just finished exercising
again, chocolate

I know this looks like
nothing more than a list
but, it's a new year and
for some reason
in the middle of
silly traditions
we can get a little
booster of hope.

things are going to be ok.

If People Floated

If people floated
instead of walking
I would be up higher
than most buildings.

And I'd hate it.

Heart in throat,
desperately wanting to
play it safe and
breathe a little easier -
^ That'd be me. ^

Unfortunately,
that just isn't the life for me.
I live to see the world
even when it terrifies me.
Especially when it does.

I guess that settles it:

If people floated
instead of walking
I'd be soaring by the stars.

Soul on Keyboards

I write and I write
and I write and I write-
can you hear me?

Secrets are slipping through
my fingers, landing on the keys beneath,
don't worry, the letters stay put,
but my fingers are sliding
passion clouding my reason,
but I swear--
if you would just listen.

am I showing my soul?
place a world at my feet
and I will roll around in the mud
until I find the gem so full
of color that it drips
from its cracks

cracks like the ones
in my timeline, my story,
that I've created with
mistakes

ones that I've filled with gold.

Breathe

Your emotions may feel like a sandstorm, as if
your body is screaming at you
to believe that your
very existence is a crime
that the world wants wiped from it's surface-
breathe.

B r e a t h e
as if you are introducing your lungs
to air for the very first time.
Feel your chest expand with gratitude towards you,
because together you are harmonizing to create the music
of life.

When you are through
with pretending you have no grief,
it's okay.
I know those memories are heavy,
maybe you don't think you'll ever get
enough air to stretch your chest all the way out,
it's okay.
Start with small breathes and move your tummy out,
hum until you can open your mouth
to gulp down that little bit of hope that's there
because

if you can breathe
that means you are still here.
And if you are still here,
know that you will learn to
control that sandstorm.

Use up all that air and
make your voice heard.

Christmas Energy

You taught me of an energy I never knew before,
one that beats my loneliness every time it shows,
that brings me back every time I'm feeling blue.
I can reach it anytime
because the energy
is knowing that you are out there, my dear.

It's Christmas time now, as you may know.
Who can say, you might even have that holiday glow!
It's time to be grateful and give butterfly
kisses to those we love the most.

Often oversimplified as just
a month of superfluous gifts that aren't worth the fuss,
but who can forget
hands holding our own around the table,
candles lit with love and repeated tolerance of
the same jokes over and over again.

What I'm saying is, I love you so,
you are a part of that family that stays with me
over roads and mountains of distance, you are
always right next to me.


Dedicated to my friend, Corinne.

Unseen Ripples

No man behind the curtain,
I swear, please, just look at the view
(because her mind is a mess).

She bet on the rebels, dreaming
of change.
The faint lines of glory
might be fading,
but she hasn’t stopped wishing.
Don’t give up yet,
the sun hasn’t set (not yet).

Leaves in the water,
making ripples in time-
a life filled with mountains,
there are so many climbs.
Now, all that is left is the fall.

It all feels so strange,
but you can’t replicate
the time that has passed,
you just have to wait.

You’d do anything, too,
if it was your family.
That’s the funny thing,
you’d do it all over again
at the change to save them.

Leaves in the water,
making ripples in time,
a life filled with mountains
Oh, so many climbs.
All you can do now is fall.

Don't give up now,
the sun hasn’t set.
Wait three hours,
just hang on,
there’s one more hill to climb.
Once you’re there it will all be clear.
I’m supposed to say that
things happen for a reason.
And maybe that’s true.
But, it doesn’t matter in the end,
not to the little guys.
(we feel each punch).

Leaves in the water,
making ripples in time-
a life filled with mountains,
there are so many climbs.
Now, all that is left is the fall.

One breathe can make all the difference,
sadly, we don’t always get to see it.

Another love thing

I met you like a walking coincidence meets hope.
I fell for you like raindrops are doomed to in their dance with gravity.
I love you still like a bridge holds ever steady.
And I will stick by you, for whatever may come our way.

Adults

Do as I say
not as I do.
You are too young
to know anything but play.
I don’t want your questions-
*sigh* don’t ask 'cause I won't teach you how.
Go out and fly,
I’ll prepare for your downfall
and laugh from down here.

Smoking Sage

Sage smoking, the warm smell
rising into the air…

Wait, we aren’t there yet.

First, we jump in
the creek
and bob along until we get to a certain
spot on the bank.

Good thing we started a fire
because it was probably
midnight, and my hands
were turning blue.

We sit in silence
but break it with breaths of memories,
ones that will stay with us forever.

Now, we bring out the sage, I think.
It starts by surrounding
the person next to you
in good energy and
cleansing them of anything toxic;
we go in a circle.

I’m pretty sure she’s crying.
or maybe that’s me.
maybe it’s all of us.
A bunch of kids,
with electricity dancing
along our spines,
sharing pieces of…
our lives.

Something about this bond,
something about this place,

You couldn’t replicate it.
You don’t want to try,
because it wouldn’t be just right.

You need the chiming bell
and the sweet potato biscuits
and songs sung
that you haven’t heard in a year,
but perfectly.

You need those people
with hearts open to
well, everyone.

Sage smoking, the warm smell
rising into the air…

Wait, that was one night,
a lifetime ago.
One night,
one that left the feeling of rocks on my feet
and the rush of jumping off of mini-cliffs
and, well,
the energy of smoking sage.