Well...you’re alive in my memories and my prayers boy. ✌️ for now until ....

Our ephemeral is existence is a cosmic joke worth laughing at. It’s the tragedy that draws one from the sidelines to the field to play. To get muddy. To break bones. To live to feel that real eyes realize real lies. It’s the genius that convinces the unconvinced. The ephemeral genius, who shows only when we need him but abandons us by daylight when questions are piled so tall like a stack of blank papers amounting to little at all save for the last page, upon which one sentence is scribed wherein it described the point of the pain, so he figured he’d stick around instead of fold under the pressure.

Nobody does alone better.

I wear both halves of friendship charms,

tell waiters “table for one, please,”

poor two glasses of wine for both me and myself,

play both sides of the chess board,

and keep stock photos in frames.

I watch all of my movies alone in the dark.

Romances are better when seen by yourself.

I cook half Mac and cheese boxes,

make lasagna in 4 x 6 inch pans,

yet buy ice cream by the gallon.

I mailed myself a birthday card

and gave myself $10.

“Hey siri, play me breathing sounds”

and “Siri tell me jokes”

I’ve bought cologne just for my hoodies, and I’ve practiced kissing on my hand.

If they didn’t come with me, I’d only have one arm, one hand, one leg, one eye.

Alone and I have gotten, now, to be the best of friends.

1) Did you cut your hair recently?

Because you look like a cut above the rest.

2) Are you Batman's sidekick?

Because you’re robin’ my love.

3) *offers a muffin*

I didn’t have any flowers handy, but I figured flour in a muffin would be close enough.

[I know this one’s not really a pick up line, but I think it would be cute]

I would say sorry

[I would say sorry to my mom for all the lies I've lied and all the lies I will lie yet, and for the fact that she would still catch a star from the night sky for me, if only she was taller.

I would say sorry to my dad for all the times I've disobeyed and all the times I will disobey yet, and for the fact that though his hands are rough and his temper rougher, he would still hold me at my worst.

I would say sorry to my siblings for all the tears I've caused them and all the tears I will cause them yet, and for the fact that they wouldgive their all for me if I was ever hurt.

I would say sorry to my friends for all the fights that I had fought with them and all the fights I will fight yet, and for the fact that they'd forgive me still after I'd made them hurt.

I would say sorry to the stars in the sky and the earth under my feet and the waves in the sea for all the times I've lost site of their magnificence and all the times I will lose site yet, and for the fact that they would grant me happiness even if I was never grateful.

I would say sorry to myself for all the mistakes I've made and all the mistakes I will make yet, and for the fact that I would still love myself if only I would try.

I would say sorry a thousand times over. I would cry it at a funeral. I would whisper it to my neighbor. I would sing it in the shower. I would wail it at the doorsteps of strangers. I would howl it to the moon. I would shout it to the wind. I would preach it to God himself if only it would help...]

but one word would not fix anything 'cause fixing anything ain't the same as fixing all my faults.

Excuse me goes Suzzie but mamma said to tell y’all that pa finally dead

In the early morning hours in this old storied bungalow of ours

We all sit in a crescent round his bed-

Even when ya know it’s comin,

It’s tough when they’re actually dead

A piece of you loves em so much you

Might just wish it was you, instead.

Excuse me mister but you’re not on the list here

And I’ll have to ask you to leave,

It could be an accident and in that event

I’ve sent word to the Powers That Be that they’ll easily believe

Excuse me sir I know shits a blur but try not to despair,

Few things, as fucked as they can be, are beyond repair.

Try and hang on with all you’ve got,

You’re alone in this game it’s true,

Best you remember if you’d since forgot

Excuse me God I have something to tell you,

I swear it’s not an excuse I’m fixin to sell you,

Only because i know better by now,

It’s a foregone conclusion that you’ll find me out somehow,

But I’d rather not miss a thing you see,

So what advice do you have for me and my so-called destiny?

Is it a calling I’m blind to? A beckoning?

Or are my days numbered and I’m waiting on my motherfuckin reckoning?

I’m a man known for patience at times,

Save for traffic of course,

And hanging my hat on vague ass signs

It’s a triangle.

No, it’s a square. I think I can expand it into a star with four vertices. No, five.

I found a kite once. Oh, wait, that’s the same thing.

Why do I always hear about the stars? Constellations? Shapes?

It all makes no sense.

My back against the bumper, my eyes in my head, my breath in my eyes

I can only see a floating desert of black with little spots of white

And the more I try to connect the dots, the more lost I feel

The more I count, the less I see (try it)

Why do stars have to form shapes?

Why can’t they just be what they are? Light against dark? Good against bad?

Little clusters here and there, for every family in its corner of the world,

dying out one at a time, pulling apart, pulling together

For every group of persons doing something, together, good or bad

Why can’t that little dot, sitting at the corner of the sky, be every loner?

Why can’t it be me, just on my own, far away, beautiful and bright and not part of a bigger picture?

The bigger picture hurts, it always does. It makes me feel tiny.

What’s in the stars? I don’t see.

No, I’m not blind, I just told you I see white against black.

You know what, damn this night, damn Aries and Leo,

I’ve always believed clouds form more shapes than stars.

I will wait till morning

I will wait for the sun to rise

It’s more like me

Alone.

Hey Celaena,

I guess you were right. You do give people falsified hope, now that I think about it. I’m so confused. What were you trying to do? You acted all flustered when I complimented you. (Were you really?)

And when I told you I liked you, you hid your face and smiled so beautifully it made my heart ache. Perhaps you smiled because you thought it was a joke. (Or perhaps it was merely my eyes playing tricks on me.)

Honestly, if you never told me you were flattered when I said you looked pretty, I would never have even hoped to be liked (loved) by you.

Perhaps I misread the signs. Perhaps I thought you liked me back just a little. Perhaps the fact that you actually contemplated dating me for a heartbeat instead of outright rejecting me also gave me a bit of hope.

Oh, you dreamt of me last night? It doesn’t mean anything, right? Holding my hand so tight and not letting go; falling asleep on my lap. It doesn’t mean anything, right? (I wish it did.)

I wish you liked me back.

But… you know what? Even if we don’t date, I think… I think I’m happy knowing that at some point in time, I was somewhere in your heart. Not as a friend, but as something… a little more.

~ Love, Avery

i'm sorry.

i don't know how

to write a love letter,

one filled with pink metaphors

and purple prose

and rose colored hearts drawn in

tattoo ink.

i don't know how to

express

the way you make my chest feel

an ache like i've never felt

but a kind ache, a good ache

the kind of ache that

makes you want to snuggle under the covers

and watch the ceiling

shift and change

with the hallucinations of nighttime.

i'm sorry.

i don't know how to write

a love letter.

i'm not even sure

that i know how to love.

but for you,

i'm willing to try.

i'm willing to try anything

if it will make you happy.

so i'm sorry.

i might not be able to give you

a tv romance

with sex and drama and passion.

but i can smile at you

when you need a friend

and hug you

when you need one.

so maybe i can't write you a love letter.

but actions speak louder than words.

I try to say it,

not all the time.

Every time I do,

I hope it rhymes...

It opens the door

and lets you in.

It's what you see

when you look out the window.

It's all you need from me.

I try to prove it

with lesser words.

Every calculation

that I solved,

I hope it evolves

in your heart.

We call it...

I think I slipped right there,

you know what I was about to say,

but I left it out.

Don't be scared.

Maybe if you hang on

a little bit,

You'll mix the

sounds to my hearbeat.

Forgive my inconsistency.

I say I would do right

by you,

yet I keep vexing

for the wrong reasons.

I tried to starve you

of your next meal.

I'll take my lessons

like the ectascy pills

that I shouldn't mess with.

I have to say it,

this very moment

my words,

don't forsake me.

Like an eye is the

window to the soul,

let this light

be the awakening

that makes you whole.

I must admit,

I can't prove uncertainties.

My calculator dissolved

when I hit the digits.

The equation I used

collapsed it engine.

What did I tell it to do?

I'll say it to you.

I love you multiplied by I love you

Is all it took.

10 heartbeats in your hand

while the organ’s still warm

you put it in a box

the address is random

the rest of the body

can be shipped to Costa Rica

but the heart (still beating)

goes to you free of shipping