Loving you

Loving you is like putting my seatbelt on;
I don't think twice about it anymore.

Fri (no end)

We yearn for closeness, camaraderie, bushles of laughs
we think we will get this from men,
yet they never can give that dressed up glee
of sharing dresses and secrets
of throwing pillows
of never being overcome by lusty love.

We watch others
thinking they have it,
seemingly they do.

But I sometimes wonder
if we are all wandering in the dark
and holding our own hands
just to make sure that our hands do not feel lonely.

Reach out your hand to me
reach it out
farther
for I wish to leave this foolery of best friends behind.

and walk somewhere with our hair flowing back from our faces
(and if you happen to be bald I don't really care)
let us grasp for sunlight
and dance barefoot in the starlight.
Let us marvel poetically at the moon,
then flee to a place that harbors no mosquitos.

I want to be more.  I want to be David and Jonathan
I want to be the sun and the sky
I want to be friends till the day past the day I die.

Thats our kind of love

I throw a look at him over my shoulder as we tromp off into the orchard. We pass the trees, their leaves dipped in gold from the sunset, and the grass stalks waving in a cool evening breeze. A flame caught the corner of the sky. He looks at me as we wait for the end of another day to come. Climbing up the power tower we reach the top. Adrenaline and beauty drown me. I hold the ladder at my back, hearing the buzz of electricity snap in the power-lines right beside my head. He swings up beside me with a casual grace that makes me snap the words: "Be careful." He grins at me and silences me in a way that makes me forget how possibly stupid the idea of kissing atop a power grid is. As we watch the sunset- cheek on cheek- I am struck by how beautiful every single sunset is, and how much I enjoy every single moment that I am alive. But then it is time to climb down again, and mosquitoes are finding my bare legs quite the feast, and the feeling of utter happiness is swept away.

As we walk back under a rising moon, I look over to Nick. His brow is set. His jaw clenched. I used to take this expression as the birthing of a thought. But now I understand that it is the absence of such. He has this sort of calm, rather like the sleep mode of a computer. In this mode he is ready to talk about anything at a moments notice, but is not thinking of anything in particular. Walking with him in this state is like coming to a thought oasis for me. Normally my thoughts burn through my mind. They are not great thoughts, mind you, rather just run on and on and on kinds of thoughts. But my thoughts tend to peter down a bit when I walk with someone who is so utterly calm.

"I love you" he whispers into my ear. He gruffly rubs my shoulders and ruffles my hair. I kiss him one last time and then one more time. Which leads to one more. (I will pretend it stops at three kisses for the sake any friend reading this. I do not need to bore anyone with my stories of cute kisses that really make the reader want to curl up and be sick.) And we say good bye.

Whether it be a late night on the phone, a deep conversation, a back rub, a nap, a walk taken holding hands, a ice cream cone replaced, a moment taken, a kiss given, a tear dropped, or even a word spoken in a slashing way- I love that man. I did not ask to fall in love at 19. I do not even really want to be in this deep. However, I cannot help where we are, or who we are, or where we are going. Regardless of what happens- at this moment in time I love him. It is the most terrifying and exhilarating thing I know. I know others feel this way about other people, but I cannot help but feel that I am the only one in the world who can feel this intoxicatingly vulnerable. It makes the relationship seem priceless, when in reality it is remarkably common. Love, however expensive the cost to the heart, is readily available.

Divine

You speak to me

with these pure words.

Words that I could run through a filter

and not catch a thing.

Sentences running on

without cause for stop

phrases smoothly smoldering

warming my cold hands.

You speak to me with this pure love

love that stops my heart

love that gives me pause

love that causes me to sing out.

Folly

She runs around

bare thoughts through tall grass

chest bouncing unabashed.

She simpers at worry

and sings an off key melody.

Don't ever stop, Folly.

Dream of white dresses and long hair

dream of summers and winters spooning together

warm snow

and soft words.

Folly,

keep on imagining those loans being paid off

and that hope being filled.

We love you for it.

Never fear yourself,

never hide yourself,

never think of safety being first

for it would be folly to do so.

Youthful ignorance

I laugh at myself. Not a frequent occurrence, as the oldest I find self criticism to be as painful as walking on hot, black asphalt.

But I do laugh at myself. Because in love, everything I wanted, I have. And everything I have in love, I wanted.

Except we are so darn young. We are practically babies. I cannot pass up certain aspects of youth while also maintaining the directional forces of being in a serious relationship. Serious relationship. What kind of pre-pre-engagement crap is that? I want to be wild and young. Bitterly free. Yet I feel a sort of tug at my being. Like I should build a nest. Or review some housewife traits so as to draw him in. Reader, you may laugh with me. Laugh because we are so young to be tied down. Laugh because we need to learn that we are tied to something that can fly with us.

"Wait for me my love

wait till we can lie

wrapped within each other

then you will be my lover"

Simple truths

We are 19 and silly

what do we know of faith?

Of the world?

Who are we to judge members of society?

What have we done to give us such a sense of entitlement to say who is wrong or who is right.

How can I raise my eyebrow at someone who may drink on the weekends?

Or who lies intertwined with her boyfriend?

Created in Him

and yet so broken.

It seems foolish to think that our opinions of our surroundings are well deserved. Harshness and competition steer our minds to those who do things we seemingly do not approve.

We excuse our own actions. "It was a safe environment" "I love him, and its not actually sex" "I tried it just to try it"

We are not the answer. The world does not rotate around us. The Bible was not writen specificly to me. It was not a letter addressed to my soul. It is more like the road map you buy at the gas station. To get from here to there I need my map. Knowing my navigation skills... I definitely need the map. But because the map is old and it is not a magical harry-potter map- it does not show construction, downed power-lines, or traffic jams along the way. However it does show me the direction to start going in. The map does not show who is ahead of whom, or where to cut someone else off. It shows me which way to turn.

19 and silly. Who are we to judge the travels of another soul. Where do we get off measuring them the ruler of our own faith?

Sure of what you hope for

Worry is something that always gnaws at me.

It etches its teeth deep within me.

I hear the click of its molars searching for me in the night.

But you lie beside me and do not cover my ears.

Instead you fill them with your song

your gospel.

You allow yourself to be uncapitalized

and the words you say to not be in red.

For though you were created human,

somehow you did not carry the darkness which we all carry.

Somehow you did not seek the light for pride.

Somehow you did not excuse yourself from the rules.

How can I not look to you and feel everything at once.

But the most remarkable thing is

that I love someone as dearly as I love my own family

and he died 2,000 years ago.

Every inch yawns

opening like daybreak

breaking like a glass jar.

Shattering each part

gathering them together

whole yet undone.

Remade like the morning

fallen like Eve

rhythms forming and uniting.

Don't stop dreams

just stop ideas

from fading in their shelves where they are awaiting.

Touched by the light

forgotten by none

saved always by the sun.

Figment

Blink of the phone

splutter of the tune

brings my voice to you

I reach into the background

of my mind

answering the questions

my words left behind.

Gold of sunshine

pure of rain

like a compass

pointing to what I want to say:

These feelings are too hard

to describe

like filling an ocean with butterflies

like reading a book in the dark

or melting away my simple doubts.

but my face says it all.

my smile says it all.

my dreams say it all.

The sound of your voice

in the dark

brings to mind

what can't be taken apart.

Number of Heartbeats

This time

when you tell me I am beautiful

I believe you.

Because the only thing you can see

is me.

I am raw from you tenderness

crazy from unquenched wants

You wipe my tears with your fingertips

kissing the corner of my eye

lost in the emotion

Tangled in my soul

Wishing we could only sleep together

so we could wake up together.

Thought itself pure

the meaning behind persists perseverance.

Waiting to want. Wanting to wait.

and in the end

holding hands

following rules

resenting the way things are

but knowing it is the right thing

wishing it wasn't

Shame

Does it ever hurt you to look into our worlds future?

The pain and devastation in store.

We shield ourselves

we numb ourselves.

The worst part is that we only wonder about ourselves.

"40% of coral reefs will be gone by 2028, and social security will run out"

All I can think is

"I wonder if Nick and I will still be together."

Because in the hush of my mind, I am selfish. Even when my soul is shouting out to care a little more.

I have turned my heart to winter, and gathered little icicles to create walls that I can see out of. But that will never be quite like looking out of a clear window. My prayer is that God comes into my little house, and uses the breaths of starving, unheld babies to melt these walls away.

If only my faith was as strong as the woman who reached out and touched the edge of Jesus's cloak. If only I could grab that seam and believe. Yet I would be to political and proud to do such a awkward thing as simply reach out. Lord, what I want is to see and break at what I see. What I want is to trust You. You alone can give me what I need. You alone can guide me on my way. You alone may use me. You alone can turn me into something useful.

If I did it by myself

it would still be You

for You knit me in my mothers womb

perl knit perl knit perl knit.

bland, yet remarkable as it may be.

Shed With Age

Like a splinter,

I feel irritation boiling in my stomach.

These attachments?

I don't want them.

This closeness

I don't want it.

I want to be free and cold

icy beneath the water's surface

forgetful of feelings

never blushing with spring.

I want to be hard

as a rock.

I want to be high

as a mountain

I want to go back to being unattainable.

There is no desire for this pity

for this cheery conversation.

I want to loose myself in the convalescence of falling.

Kiss me lightly

Kiss me like that again.

With your mouth tasting like a buffalo wild wing

with your track sweats on

no shower

hair choppy.

Kiss me like that again

with a feeling of mutual passion rising within us

like the crest of a wave

tumbling falling

roaring

Make me feel alive

hands running up my hips

and framing my jaw

lips tenderly edging me over the brink of sanity

let me kiss your smile

Wild I am in your arms

you who make me see the contrast of the world

you who make me see the flaws in myself

you who hold me tightly to your chest

and press against me in the sunshine.

As Remarkable as Marble

In a sea of faces, how can we expect to effect?

How can we dream of changing someones life?

Or even that our dream will catch fire with meaning?

The things we wish for most impossible. We want to leave our mark, to be remembered, to be worthy and great. Yet these things do not come so swiftly. So unlike their counterparts of obliteration, forgotten gravestones, and corruption. Fate holds all of us in it's personified hands, and chokes us into dust. Where we are sprinkled to fertilize the next generation.

If I am lucky some will visit my headstone. Perhaps a witty quote will be engraved upon the marble. Reading something far too clever for me to have penned. Those who visit will stand in resolute reminisce. But they will be reminiscing on an older version of myself. Maybe a wiser version of myself, but never me. I will be hollowed out and shaped into a tamed form by my work, children, weariness. These grave visitors will never have run next to me in a high wind and been sheltered by my silhouette . They will never dance with me in the moonlight, or discuss the future with me whilst sitting on bar stools. They will never contemplate alternate realities or alien life forms. They will never compare romantic relationships, nor dreams, nor dances. If any of these visitors will have been with me through those things, they will no longer remember. Gray hair will have made them drop their memories.

All I can hope for is that the future will be a little bit better because of me. And I am venturing out on this quest for greatness knowing full well that I would never be able to achieve it on my own. Although a traveler I may be, I need a compass and some company. And if there is to be any success it will not be mine. For I am not my own, but belong. Wholly and completely.

May my ashes be spread,

in a flower bed

where they might intermingle with the essence of the sky

and learn to ever sleep.

For I am not a body with a soul, but a soul that happens to have a body.

Unwhole

Darkness clipped on the edges of a sharp moon

streaming leaves

slanting to the moon.

Wind dripping and twisting straight to the ground

rooftop cold and worn

climbed.

Drinking discussions down

like underage alcohol

Lips never forgetting their words.

Minds chewing and cussing

putrid thought

of less help,

Bitter and poisonous

and lingering.

Catch the Thunder

Our love was as fated as two raindrops slipping down the window.

One watches them roll next to each other,

wishing silently for them to meet.

Anticipation builds.

And then two becomes one

and tumbles out of view.

First on the First

One year ago I was jumping into a lake full of cold water. Great Lake water. One year ago I was trying to etch the shape of your body into my memory. Objectifying you in your swimming trunks. Analyzing the lines of your muscles. Wondering how someone this beautiful was not paused in time on a pedestal a museum amongst Greek gods.

One year ago I was frightened. What I feared was greater than any nightmare. My fear held a story in which a girl fell in love with a boy, and the boy (who had never loved anyone before) would only fancy himself feeling the same way... but would later realize his folly and leave the girl.

One year ago, after a long evening of holding hands and watching a movie you kissed me. A kiss which forever sealed that bubble of fear, until words would perhaps free that story. You leaned in and with a whispered though your lips met mine.

One year ago I thought what I was feeling was love. But I know now, that is like comparing a child to a mature adult. What I felt then was labor pains and relief. The birth of something new and perfect.

Hush

"Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper."

Sometimes a man-loves-woman relationship is not made by the romantic sunsets watched, or in all of the epic moments that occur. It can be the most beautiful when it is in a gentle whisper. A whisper that assures me that you think we can survive the five months when I will be the farthest possible distance from you. A whisper that lets me know you love me. A whisper when you praise my prowess at banana grams. That matters more to me than any act, any vow, any rose.

Same goes for siblings. It is not the mountains we have climbed together, or the endless hours spent in the car traveling from place to place, or the presents we give and receive. It is when I tuck you in at night. And kiss you forehead after brushing your hair with my fingers. A tenderness reserved for mother and child, which we share. A joy exclusive between best friends, which we emanate. I love everything you stand for and everything you are. The gentle whisper of 'I love you more' follows me all of my days and my soul does not rest until it is next to yours. What blessed siblings I have been given.

I know God puts people in our lives to teach us about him. We are made in his image, and we need to rub shoulders with others to realize this. The fact that God's most ardent affection for us can be displayed and contained in a whisper reminds me that the relationship one can have with God is real. As real as any whisper of commitment or love. The love God has for us is that of insurmountable measurements.

To commune most closely to God

perhaps we should try whispering back.

One Year

I give you a picture in a frame

a 14 page note

but they seem so worthless

because I have already given you my heart.

I know how standard a phrase that is

So perhaps I shall reword it.

Your kiss gives me words

your words make me want kisses

and you are not mine

and I am not yours

We allow each other to belong to something greater than just our relationship.

And I love you more for that.

In the cookies of life; friends are the chocolate chips.

Friends:

Discuss faults and comfort

even when they know that you are flawed.

Agitatedly put up with you

because they know the best intentions lie in your heart.

They know this

due to the endless hours spent talking

by the fire

running down a sidewalk

through the hallways a smile

whispering happy birthday at twelve into your phone.

Lips curling around our words

snuggling through conversation

dreaming of who we wish we were

but loving each how she is.

Friends

Shadow of Who You Were Once

There once was a love story here

I pick up the shards of where you smashed it.

It has been two years now since you have been alone,

one has moved on

after a long pause

the other floats with no direction.

How many scars the two of you have given each other.

I was there for the push and tugs of new beginnings

and the breakup over the phone.

What have you become? I, who was once dear to you both, wonder.

What are your dreams

Who matters to you

Where do the broken places no longer hold water.

I see one of you reach out a hand of friendship, and awkwardly make small talk.

The other seem to be far above awareness.

Still so caught up in yourselves, and ignoring those others who mattered once.

Pseudonym

"How are you and Nick?"

This question is asked of all who even have the faintest inkling that we were dating. My response is generally vague, or I tell some trifling worry I have at that moment. My focus suddenly leaves the conversation and wanders through a path of thoughts. I try to send out the message that I am not attached to him, while at the same time whispering in a small voice how deeply I love him.

It has become very hard to lie. Very difficult to bare my emotions. Very challenging to pretend that I would not be crushed if it fails. I keep waiting for the point to hit when I stop hiding. I am definitely not fooling anyone, but it somehow comforts me.

When I deny the love I feel for him, its like I am forming a pseudonym for my heart. Another name, where I can stay sheltered if this blows up in my face. It is like I could just slip into this other girl, one who does not love him, and I could pretend that this name also carries a hard heart.

Whoever ends up lifting my veil will lift this false name from my face. Until then, I am fine being able to slip into someone else if trouble arises and pretending nothing mattered.

Filling in silences

Sometimes blank spaces

do not need to be filled.

This is how it feels...

I never lose myself in a moment.

Or somewhere in your eyes.

I know exactly where I am.

Looking at you is like looking at the map on the side of a hiking trail

the 'x' tells you exactly where you are

and you can always see which way to take

to get you where you need to be.

There are no rushing colors, no butterflies, no gazes that make everyone else fade away.

There is me and there is you.

I am in love

rather than being just a feeling

it is a fact.

Not fragmented like a poem

nor is it complete like a paper.

There

is

n

o

ord

er.

But is that not how it should seem?

When others have left me breathless, you have filled me with breath.

You are not the reason I choose to live, because you are the one who helps me see all the other reasons.

I cannot really think of something more healthful, practical, or stable than that.

Not always fireworks

or long nights of longingly looking at the other

It is a hand held

words said

tumbling backwards with passion

laughing at clinking teeth

dreaming of the future

begging to go to sleep.

It works

Sometimes

among all the darkness

I wonder how much I have lied to my self.

What untruths have I allowed slip by

just to ease life into living smoothly

What delicate webs have I woven

that do not exist.

My lies are companions of one another

and they sit and wait in my heart

waiting

fingers entwined.

The past shall remain there

I sit here

and try to figure out what you gave me.

What did you give me besides regret?

Regret that it was I who decided not to even try anymore.

Regret that climbing the dune to follow the moon

like a couple of moths

did not work.

The stars were shining, and we were just two people.

Searching for seaglass and talking about ideas.

How can something like that not work?

Snagging a smile away from my lips

and placing it on your own.

Holding the door open

and giving me a sweatshirt for my feet when they were cold.

What could we have survived? What could we have weathered?

Would this world have been perfect if we had been together.

not a question

not a statement

somewhere in between being close to tears

and close to relief.

I find myself unsure.

Do I hate you or are we friends?

Or do we fall into the abyss of in between.

What I learned, is that no matter how brief of a time

that you let your heart hang open

it still changes you.

You brought out something different than what he brings out in me.

You brought out the wild, the thought provoked, the selfish. You brought out the fear, the confusion, the shrinking away. You brought out the analyzing, the complete, the broken.

Whatever it is that you brought out, it is still here. Those parts of me still exist. But they coexist instead of being caged. They life in another's eye now, which seems bizarre. Like a heart transplant. But it has saved.

What was once

I see the snow swirling around you

I hope to see a light flit over your face as you notice me.

But you are too enthralled with the one beside you.

I blink as tears bite,

attempting to free themselves from my lashes.

You link arms with him, as you once did with me.

He is your best friend

the one you complain to

the one you can cry on.

Which is all I ever wanted to be.

Once I was so precious to you

and now i am just a girl standing in the snow

cold inside and out.

My heart freezes every single second

I look at you.

The one I once cherished most.

May the love I once gave freely to you

come back to comfort the giver.

And so cease the tie of friendship.

Sacrifices

I prod you not to kiss me on account of my stuffy nose and dry throat. I attempt to convince you that getting sick is really not worth a night's worth of kisses. You have exams next week, and two wrestling meets.

But as I say this you pull me to your lips.

And my argument is forgotten.

and I kiss your triumphant smile.

Enjoy your cold. It is a gift from me to you.

"...We should do that..."

Sometimes the things you absolutely did not mean to say pop out. And you wonder at how honesty can be the most simple line of beauty.

Rolling Ladders

We sit flipping through books

talking about the same things

over and over.

There is a cup of hot chocolate

that sits

growing more and more luke warm.

And a man who listens to us chat while typing on his computer.

I wish I could solve all your problems

because I see the happiness you deserve

and want to help you attain it.

2010

To reflect on 2010 I would say at a first glance, unremarkable.

My eyes became open to other's cruelness in 2010. As well as my own.

2010 began with a name on my lips.

and near the end, the one with that name was kissing the same lips that uttered so hopefully his name. So there is a feeling of satisfaction there.

I fell in love in 2010 and all of this past year I loved the same person. Which is a first time occurrence in my rather unremarkable life.

I saved friendships in 2010. I stored them in airtight baggies so that they did not grow stale.

I lost friends in 2010. It left room to form new friendships, but still there is a hole in my soul.

I realized how pure I have remained. Yet how daunting temptation has been. God has shielded from most temptations, and for that I am thankful. I grew closer to him out of need. And I will remain close to him forever.

I grew

a critical mind

breasts

.25 of an inch

a bigger heart

a better sleep pattern

up

I wanted

more

to go farther

security

a job

some candy

not to wake up for my 8 o'clock class

to be in shape without trying

to not lose that friendship

you to care

life