Putting us back together again like broken golden glitter stars

    The way when they call you
because your tears leak into your words
and ask you to tell them your life story
- you press your crying words to the phone
because you know they aren't afraid
to hear the answer.

The way anything and everything are
crucial cadences as your voices
meld into each other- when
random things become important
and fade as inside jokes that will
only make sense in that moment
for the two of you.

The way I kept calling you because
although time again,  you slowly
proved to me you wouldn't be there
I wanted to believe that one of those
53 times, your voice would answer
you would get the raw emotions
in my inflections, and in my silence




Tiny spiderweb threads slowly cling
together, wincing at their near
break but coming back together
in the palm tree frond stitches
of our friendship- its funny that
I use spiderweb as a metaphor
for us- [you're terrified of spiders,
crying and shrieking and going silent
when they sneak up on you]


Spiders never scared me- my nightmares
were of drowning, of suffocating and
losing control- burning in amber flames
acidic decisions, honey gone sour

You believe in fate- its tentacles
wrapping around us and tossing us
in an octopus dance- I never could
blind trust was a weakness of me,
broken so many times before-
I needed to believe I could have control

Our ease in being around each other
completing the jagged radii that
encircle who we are- as we talk
on the phone, its like coming home
even after 4 months- because
you are my other half.

The way you know me- what my
face looks like on the phone,
the way you know how much
I always hurt, in the rainbow
colors of your eyes telling
me the little things about
your life, since school
keeps us apart- so the
tangled needle thread
holding us together never
breaks

That's love- its indescribable
because its not a color,
but it does paint a glittering
picture.

Its not a flavor but it does
taste of living and holding on.


Its not a scent in the air
its the emotions in your
blood pumping to your
crystalized heart that
smell of forever
and soulmates.


its not an adjective or
a verb - its a being noun
because loving someone
means a part of why you
fight to want to keep on
going- because you know
giving up is living without
them- and you can't do that.

Love isn't a race- or a gold medal
colord competition- but loving
someone else is winning-
no matter who or how you love.