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Personal Note:

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Poem

there are things that you can't hear after a particularly rough day, but the way I smile when a message pops up "good job bean" after I tell you that my first ever published poem has arrived at my house and is real seems to fix everything. or when we sit real close on the biggest couch in your living room watching Freaks and Geeks and you pet my legs, get too close to my feet, I squirm away, and you smile with a soft quick of your lips at the tv; a smile I know is just for me. those fragile moments in the front seat of your car with intertwined fingers and loud music - Tear In My Heart that I can't listen to any more because there is a very tangible one in my own - and soft looks exchanged when our friends are with us are palpable memories that swim through my head and my soul leaving rifts the size of your body that feel like home but echo a brokenness I've never known. I always knew that what we had was precious and frail and that there is a very fine line between loving and loving wrongly that looks too much like the blankets piled on top of us during cringey horror movies that you should not have spent money on. things went the wrong way - should have ended up differently, but I know you're much more comfortable behind a screen at 11pm than face to face at 11am and I've never understood that but I thought that you understood me and my absolute need for communication because I cannot war with you, but I most certainly can battle against this faceless entity that spits out your words into small green chat bubbles that appear on my screen. we all make choices, at least that's what my mom tells me, and I’m tired of making this one, of letting you go.

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