hi. i believe in you.
sometimes when i’m walking around in a blindingly fluorescent store, and it’s that time of year, those Christmas joys make me sad,
i know that it’s one more memory that i’ll make alone, one without you.
and afterward, as i walked out to that pile of rocks on the river, hiding from the wind behind the thickest trunk, i smiled as the wind blew my hair and the willow’s beards straight sideways. my eyes are continually blinded by the strands of hair that won’t stay behind my ears, but i smile in the direction of the sun, i squint at the colors that the leaves have turned, i know that somewhere you are seeing the same thing
and here to interrupt my peaceful respite of kind dreams about you, i see a crowd of girls that i know from the world, and their impersonal chatter disrupts my meditations.
today, i found glass ladybugs to hang from my ears, i found flowers sewn together from burlap, i found mirrors that made me believe in my beauty.
but it’s strange the way that, just as i started to find comfort in my solitude, it was just as easily torn away by this intrusion.
they speak a language that consists of harbinger pronouns, names for reputations and not souls, vapid thoughts that forwent any concentration of magnitude.
and i cannot wait for you.
because i guess the only thing about this place is the way i found an unfair balance of curios from “the lost cause” to the biographies of the sixties.
and i feel as though my friends disapprove more than my parents, that i should change after this poetry reading, that i should wear something deemed worthy of a church congregation.
and sometimes i want to cry at the idea that you don’t exist
because i think i am depending on you
to come to life and tell me
that all my loneliness was worth it.