Cause he's all I know how to write about.

The amount of times I gave you my heart on the end of a string and told you I'd be back by 11 at the latest is never ending.
 The days I laid out my clothes before bed hoping to impress anyone were too often. I still haven't enjoyed a rolo cookie since the time I came home crying from dance because I gave mine up because they told us not to eat caramel with our braces. I was the loser who had braces in the 4th grade. Nobody else got them until 8th.
Your eyes were always windows but I never learned how to adjust the blinds. I saw colors and magic but I never saw tears or tragic. My shoulders give me away every time, and if they didn't I'm sure my breathing would do the trick. You always changed me like a light switch.
I haven't been able to go to orange leaf since the day you decided looking at me wasn't worth the energy. I crave my favorite treat, but it's hard being alone in an ocean of happy memories. I crave my favorite treat, but you should never be seen as an object.

This is for all the times I didn't tell you I felt awkward holding your hand in the car. Or the first night you had me close and TigerLilly got pulled over. I miss laughing about our memories.

This is to you. and although I'll always love you, the grass is so much greener on the other side.

You said you'd love a picture, but I never got around to bringing one by. I guess the snapshots you took at the back of your mind will have to last as your reminder, if you want them to that is. I never liked the color green but you made it sound inviting. and even though you told me to pick I was never going to let your opinion slide. i took so many lefts I just wanted you to have one right.
To the summer days that we never actually spent together and all the mixed drinks we should have never touched. To lies about the canyon and lies about our hearts. To the CD in the car that you had almost learned the words to and the song on the piano you never really had to play.
Storybooks are for little girls. My mother told me flowers are for women. You brought me a book of pretty pictures but you never came near me with bouquets.

I thought a lot about you today.

How to.

Everybody's falling in love for the end of senior year, but I'd like to tell you how to be single.

STOP CARING. Boys suck. Girls suck.
Sleep in every morning so you don't have time to get ready (no one wants to date the hobo)
Take three AP classes and have three extra curriculars that take up all your time.
Be really annoying.
Be afraid to ask that kid for his number.
Only flirt with boys already in relationships.
KISS ANYONE AND EVERYONE - really though, it's fun sometimes.
Go home for lunch everyday.
Worry too much about social media and play 2048 at all possible opportunities.
Set your standards too high.
Don't be afraid to be smart in front of boys.
Eat. All the time.
YOU DON'T HAVE THE TIME FOR A RELATIONSHIP.
Smell weird. Every single day.
Talk about gossip girl in every conversation.
Bring a pet hamster to school in your hood. but don't tell anyone.
Don't have a group of friends that you can invite boys to come hang out with.
Wear only the color brown.
Be a sloppy kisser (no wait, don't.)
Spend all your time blogging.
Delete your skype account.
Always be stressed out.

Always be negative. 

Always make boys late for curfew. 

Ask for stupid favors. A lot. 

Have super bipolar opinions. 

Get mad when he changes his opinions based on who he hangs out with. 

Try to make him like his parents. 

Wear a marker mustache to school every other day. 

Hate pie. 

Realize that there's nothing wrong with being single.

The first image on Google.

thinking about Thai food.

High school is no longer a place for your brain to be to be filled
its king of the hill it's highs and thrills its plotting and kills.

They told us to come here with a happy attitude and smiles streaked across our insecurities but when they let the monkeys go free in the zoo no one actually gets to see what they paid for.

Netflix is cool to brag about if that's what you did all weekend but nothing feels worse than nonexistent missed calls and empty ice cream and broken lungs.

high school is supposed to train us to learn and to study and plan, but how many common sense tests have you taken and did you study for this final today? I don't know how to learn anymore than when i stepped through the door because if your mind is empty you let things go in and that concept is how Satan's favorite for sin and you can still make the shot if you bounce off the rim so why limit the minutes you learn in a dim,   low light setting?
we had to learn to use the dark for photography and lights were just accents and maybe that's why electives aren't where you learn the stuff you'll need later on in life.
but maybe they disguise those lessons as fun for reverse psychology. those bastards. the school system knew what they were doing all along, but did you?

 How many AP classes are you taking and also how often are you buying under the counter "medications?" There's a seed that's planted in our cracked clay soil and it's not a weed but the flower ain't that pretty and it's a hell of a lot of work and the fruit is bitter and only grows once and we let it stay to fill the empty so we can pretend we filled our brain with the quadratic theorem and the anti-derivative of a natural log.
 not things like how many shots it really takes to lose beer pong and how often does Walmart change out it's potato salad and did you sleep last night because i sure as heelll didn't.

My mom gives me pills but that's all our generation is anymore:
Pills and problems and people who vote for Obama because his poster was cool and black guys are good at basketball.

and I wish we could all leave happy valley for a year because Provo isn't going to fill our empty brains with street smarts and fighting tactics nor will Logan give us a leg up in the job market against someone who works Sunday's. 

and I'd like to go somewhere with my life and maybe that's not possible anymore.

Top 5 (or 13)

Peyton Sawyer - You, Me and the Rain

Percival T. Honeybee - Grand Theft Poetry (Blog Edition)

June Carter - Match Maker / Dear You 

Suzy Bishop - Secrets are for the lost soul.

Charlie L. Rose - Sincerely

i killed jfk - Letters to Arizona. / Letters to Arizona pt. 2

Things Unsaid - I Lost My Fear Last Night

Hey Miss Carter - Dedication Page Made Out To You. / All I ever wanted was the world.

Patrick Stump - The Moon

Jennifer Clark - My Moon

Little Fox - To whom it may concern

Feathers On a Fish - Words

Don't Cut Them, I pleaded.

The Act
William Carlos Williams

 " There were red roses in the rain

'Don't cut them,'
I pleaded.

'They won't last,'
she said.

'But they are so beautiful where they are,'
I said.

'Ahh, we were all beautiful once...' " 

but erosion is for more than the rocks.
and the wind you let breeze through your hair is taking the life out of your cheeks so it can continue to squirm. It's a sneaky bastard and it's going to make you feel alive because there is nothing better than a gasp of oxygen after 60 seconds under water.

We were all happy once.

Every last one of us decorated turkey's feathers with things we were thankful for, even if it always was mom, dad, food, clothes, house. We smiled when the 6th graders had field trips because that meant open swings at recess. We held hands playing red rover and giggled from blocking, not from boys. Chocolate chip cookies and milk were the magicians best kept secret.

We were all happy once.

Before Adventure Books and Birthday Cakes. Before yellow teeth and knobby knees. Before AP tests and acne scars. Before poetry and coffee. Before dusty windows and try-out teams. Before inside tweets and un-replyed to attention screams.

We were all happy once.

And I guess there's always a melody behind the music if the harmony isn't your style. And I guess William Carlos Williams knew what he was talking about when he said the roses can't last where they are. As if they could outlive winters famous erosion. As if happiness can be held in a stand still, bottled and worn and used for self medication.

We were all happy once.

SJY

A friend, always a friend when I needed one.
Sweet words and kind eyes and thoughtful conversation.
Someone who appreciated poetry and appreciated the travel.

A birthday present and the first open conversation I'd had in months.
You were always a hand to hold while I walked in darkness.
Doors have a way of continually swinging and my revolving doorways were losing their oxygen the longer I ran them, but you broke the window. You broke the window and then you broke the mirror and you told them to stop lying. And though you never said it in words you said it in your eyes and in your actions and in the way you treated me more than human.

You tried to take me to my first high school dance. I wasn't old enough, but I still cried because I felt wanted. I felt worth it. 

We haven't talked much lately, but we ran across each others typewriters recently and I've been thinking about the memories. The poems and the cookie dough and your sisters farewell. I've been thinking how my brother always liked you when he never liked my ex and I've been thinking how you make the sun shine on everyone, even when the sun feels like taking the afternoon off.

I don't know if this is thank you or if it's just a reminder that heaven has a place paved out for you to hang all the trophies your kindness is winning, but it's been on my mind all day and I don't think it's doing anyone any good boxed up as a memory.