I think you're just swell

August Third:

you can't decide
to turn your back
or to reach out.
So
goodbye.
I'm not the one to shirk desicions
of this nature.
You and I know me.
I love a challenge
but I'm not stupid.
I know a hopeless case
when it hopelessly sways in front of me.

I miss the ocean
really, I do.
Cups of coffee
reading books
writing.
Staring out and out forever

See you laying in the sun
and I can't beat around the bush.
You, good sir,
are a spoonfull of sugar.
There's no reason now to hide.
You're safe and I'm safe, and you're more than just
a dream in my head.
My fingertips brushed your skin briefly-
the most contact we've had thus far-
and rejoice at the feeling of the youness of you;
of the fact that they have not gone straight through you
like a ghost.
I cannot recall when I last felt this way.
I guess,
you'll just have to excuse me today,
because I can no longer beat around the bush good sir.

Come home
'cause nothing feels quite right
nothing feels the same
Nothing doesn't remind me of you.
What's left in this prairie town,
besides the memories?
Down by the river, you fell to the ground
and On the side street, I fell for you
because you lifted me
right off my feet, and I haven't stopped spinning yet.
so won't you come back to me?
Come, I'll make it home,
it'll be okay.
This prairie town misses your sweet face, and so do I.
Your sweet face, and large hands, and bent nose.

Knowing I am no longer the object
of his affection
[fixation]
makes the air a little cleaner.
My legs relax themselves into the mattress,
it's good to be new and freed.
To be young, with so many better and worse than him to come.
To be alone in this room, which messy though it is, is mine.
Is safe.
Never realized how solid these four walls could be.
How much I love the mess and the green.
I think I need a plant.

Knowing all this, I think I'll just get some sleep for now.
Maybe say a quiet thank you
to whomever or whatever is listening,
and then let the silence of
2am take me where I ought to be.

Goodnight.