kally8329

you come in like fog in the early morning before i know it, i'm lost again i try to rub the sleep from my eyes, but i soon realize that the opacity isn't external. the mystery includes the following: your whereabouts how you wear your hair the fullness of your kitchen sink and also of your heart how often you chew the collar of your shirt which channels you watch what time you go to bed and if i'm bound to run into you again someday -- she sits on a park bench wishing to be back in bed, wishing to be back home, wishing to be strong enough to let him go. -- "a couple months is nothing in the big scheme of things" she reminds herself of

We met on a street out in the middle of Brunberry.  Often times, we'd sit on the curb, watching the middle aged man in the corner house fix up his boat-of-a-car.  Or, on Sundays, the chubby, bakery-esque woman would walk her grandchildren down the road to church.  We were young, then.  I still visit that street in Brunberry, and, in fact, it is called Feldspar Road.  The man on the corner, with the old car?  His name is Charles North, and he's a retired mechanic.  The grandmother is dead now, but her daughter and grandkids moved in a couple years ago.  I still come back and check up on those people, and I still watch the leaves fall in autumn

there was a boy that i knew, once. his face was round and his chin was always lifted high. and his eyes - they used to be so white and clear. now i don't know that boy. not anymore.

I still love you, I really do. As I sat in my class of painful memories and broken graphite, I thought about how I smiled, how I leaned into your shoulder and fell asleep in your lap.  I was so sure that it would last forever, that we would last forever.  I loved you so much and I know I still do, but some things aren't meant to last.  We all change in time, and when our lives finally grow apart we need to see that sometimes love doesn't truly last, but hurts instead.  I hope you find another girl.  I want you to be with a girl just like me: someone who pretends to be tough

Dear Old Friend and Former Role Model, I do indeed miss you.  Seeing you again just made it slightly worse.  We show up, waiting for the laugh, the smile, the scent that is you.  And we get it all. Sitting next to you, shoulders grazing each time we take a breath to spit out the next line of the next verse.  I remember that voice, I remember those pitches you used to sing to us.  I remember how you put your heart into every note that came out of your mouth.  I'm glad that you still have that passion. Your stories are the same as they used to be: a family crisis, a house of bees, a joke that split open some wounds.  Your life

It's like you never even existed, which is okay.   -I thought about way back when,      way back when I thought I loved you,      way back when you smiled and I dreamed of smiling, too.   -I thought of the things I said and the promises I broke.      You never noticed I had lied.      Were you just gullible, or did you always know?      Did you know that my laughs were fake and      my love was coming to its end and      my hugs were only a solution to a problem?   -I thought of how I felt,      how I knew that I loved you,      how I knew we would stay together,      how I knew that you were hurting me. And now I s