Grabbing at new chances,
new paths forward,
with some hope and desire
to be anywhere else

It's strange to think
that one day I'll have a house
with shelves of movies I don't watch
and cds I stopped listening to,
and games no one in my house plays
except on rare occasions

There are still little things
littered about my room
that remind me
of the one I lost,
but there are two fewer
after today.

There are many wondrous things
placed carefully through my life
that remind me
of the one I love,
who is but a phone call
or a letter away

We're holding onto this moment
By the skin of our teeth
And claws extended
To keep these people here,
To stay
Even when we can't.

We've commenced;
We have degrees
And soon responsiblities-

And I'm on the couch
Where I've passed many a night
With old friends
And new alcohol,
Watching time slip through my fingers

They're happy-

Let me press every blessing I can
into their souls
as I hug them,
adorned in white and lace and a tux-

Let this couple smile for all their years to come.

My feet carry me across a stage-
I shake hands-
Paper is pressed into mine-
I smile as pictures are taken-

Relief and exhaustion in equal measure
flood into my bones-
as does trepidation
as suddenly the entire measure of my life
changes

Too many people,
too many cries for my attention-
Just STOP already.

I need sleep,
time for me
with no one else.
Please,
just leave me be.

But you can't,
can you?
I have to graduate,
and host family,
and attend a wedding,
and idiot younger friends are ignoring me.
So I can't just spend time reading,
sleeping, and packing
like I think I need.

So I'll press on.
I always do,
slipping around obstacles
like a particularly determined stream.
I'll sleep when I'm dead.

I hum with joy;
how can I not?
He's here,
with strong arms
and kind hands-
ah,
I shall miss him,
his unique feel-
I have not written him enough poems.
I don't know if my pen
will ever pour out enough.

I have traded sugar for sleep
(not entirely my fault)
and now the world is bright again.
Step by step
I make my way to the finish line.
Perhaps a little more ragged than I would have liked

Grabbing at straws,
skittering like a deer on ice,
as the weight of all there is left to do
rises up like an overwhelming wave-

She left me,
and I'm broken,
because she tells it the other way around.

It stabs like fire
because I hate to carry guilt not mine
but there she stands above me with a shovel
ready to drop it all on me-

but I won't give her
the satisfaction of screaming.