4/25/16

Now I'm awake.

Right now it's 4:06 am. I can't sleep 

Right now I'm thinking about my dad who gets less sleep than I do. He leaves for work at 5:00 every morning. I hear him toss and turn every night. He works hard. 

Right now my eyes are watering because my screen is still too bright.

Right now I'm thinking about Em. I really don't want to be 126 miles away from her (I've counted) we've been together our whole lives and I think sometimes we take that for granted. She is my best friend. I can't count the times she's listened through my stupid boy problems or pity laughed at my dumb dad jokes or snuggled with me when I was sad. I'm going to lose it when we move into our college dorms.

I'm crying now. But not too loud otherwise it will wake her up. I love her a lot. 

Right now I'm wondering about my future kids and what different worlds we'll grow up in. I don't know if I'm excited or scared. Both. 

Right now I'm thinking about her. And she's far away but I know that when she's even farther away it will be harder to help. And I want to fix her problems but I can't. I want to be there for her but I can't. Maybe we'll send handwritten letters. 

Right now I'm thinking I could've been in love but I was too scared to admit it. Now it's too late because he's different and he thinks about her instead. 

Have you truly forgiven someone if you still can't trust them? 

I don't know the answer. 
I don't want to know. 
I don't know.  

Right now I want to lay in the middle of the road like they do on The Notebook because I want to feel the silence. I want to feel like I'm the only one awake. 

My dad just turned in bed. I'll invite him to lay in the road with me. We can look at the sky like we do in August and maybe God will give us a couple of shooting stars. 

4/11/16

the truth about poetry

for all you kids out there who feel like you're lost
if you feel like writing's not your thing
if you are in a creative lull
if poetry isn't speaking to you anymore

if you want the truth about poetry, you have to find what poetry means to you.
you have to figure out your process
not nelson's
not your mother's
not mine

yours.

this is the truth about poetry