Stories from the live-out-loud-broken-hearted, a generation born into clarity

1. 

My spoon clinks against a coffee cup

and the birds outside sing in tune

songs about early mornings that blend

with late nights

long dresses that graze

dirty streets

that i tread

while everyone sleeps.

but those birds see.

the nightbirds watch over me

and in those wee hours

that i catch sleep,

they tell my stories

so morning birds

can sing my tale.

2.

sometimes words can't express my thoughts, regardless of how hard i try to mold them. my stories aren't unique. i'm just another casualty in the war of the open hearts, and the soldiers before me have already woven their tales, created intricate tapestries that far surpass my later, foolish attempts. so instead, i hang their stories up because they're also my stories. i read their tales and learn their mistakes so i can recognize when i'm making them.

"that's the problem with being both really smart and a little screwed up. you're able to concoct the most believable self-defeating positions." - Diana Peterfreund

never in my life will i ever say,

"i am nothing without you."

i am something, with or without you.

your presence doesn't miraculously change me,

though you would add to my definition.

on my own, i am still someone

someone great.

a liver, lover, giver, taker, seer, traveler, recidivist, ne'er do well, perfectionist, musician, artist, champagne aficionado.

together with you, i am still that someone

someone great

standing by

sleeping with

loving someone great.

i am something without you

and something better with. 

i wear love like a see-through dress

a loose cover up

but covering nonetheless

hiding my scars

but just barely.

i wear love like a loose dress.

gauzy armor

ruffled by the wind

and lets the sunshine through. shining onto every imperfection, highlighting ever perfection. but covered nonetheless. i stay covered throughout. 

i wear love like a see-through dress

forget modesty -

i just made the best mix.

the songs complement each other

as well as my memories.

the highs are highlighted

and the lows bring me to tears.

cathartic.

a handful of years

down to a fistful of songs.

on repeat.

unlike my memories,

these songs are welcome.

Lore

it was the middle of winter

but someone was looking out for us

amidst 20 degree days

our day

was in the low 50s

our day

was tshirt weather

in the depth of winter

our day

was spent on patios

with bottles of wine

and belgian beer

our day

had its own dj

spinning a soundtrack

that belonged to us

our day was perfect

a harmony

of recollecting the past

and imagining the future

our day

it was in the middle of winter

and there were bluebirds

just for one day

our day

love at first drink

the last shot is the deepest.

clarity comes on long walks home

go straight

with him

or turn

for another night alone.

waking up to pounding heads

and dry tongues

is better together...

your mouths can take solace

in each other.

lust at first bar

the last drink is the decision maker

and it's always on the mark.

so throw it back,

keep your chin up,

walk forward,

and don't look back.

the last shot is the deepest

but it all starts with

"can i buy you a drink?"