home

I remember when it was warm outside.

When we were stressed but okay, older but naiive.
When we could sit out on the lawn and read,

and only get a couple pages done.

I remember when I didn't know what I was doing

When each day felt like a thousand
When I could picture the best itme when

we'd be reunited, it'd be perfect.

I remember when I wasn't so angry

When I felt like I could actually be seen
When I felt like someone would probably want to know me

and when I prayed less often.

I remember that I only kinda liked that time

When I thought I'd feel so much better about this one
When I thought I knew what was comin',

I'm still not completely sure.


I remember when I knew where these thoughts were going

When I thought I had direction for this typing
When I thought my ideas were worth reuniting.

All I got was this lousy writing,


and no more thoughts to give.


I'm so confused.




I told someone the other night,

that who I seem to be isn't quite true. That I'm not so loud and opinionated, that my story-telling is just for show and for a few laughs because people don't pay attention otherwise.


And so I keep thinking about, if I had someone's full and undivided attention,

What exactly I would say.



I can't automatically think of anyting. And that is the most frightening thing yet.

because I care about so much and would like you to know.

but i don't even know what to tell you first.


Let's start with i love you.

Maybe i should listnen to your story too.
This could be good.

there's hope, there's hope.


even though there's no more sunshine, and a lot more snow.