We mark milestones as they occur/ first smiles/ first steps/first words.
I did not know when their small voices with imprecise lexicons would give way to English, when I would relinquish my role as translator.
I understood that baby sign language would be replaced by voiced word(more)s, but I didn't consider that I would fail to note the last time my daughter would pat her heart to indicate Dada, that the word he had waited to hear would seem so common compared to the gesture she had built just for him.
The sign remained for a few months, with a new meaning: she would now say "Dada" but pat her chest whenever anyone said "I love you." And she stopped patting her chest and we did not notice it, but I am inclined now to put my hand there whenever I want to emphasize my affection to her. She does not recognize the signal, and I will perhaps seem strangely sentimental to her.
Her sister's name for her was a mystery to us for the first months that she was saying it, such a peculiar series of sounds in her sinuses. We all learned it eventually, and when the private name gave way to the public, my elder daughter cried that her little sister was being mean for calling her that. In sweet times they wrap arms and legs around one another and the four-year-old strokes her big sister's cheeks and says again and again "Gngn. My Gngn."
I used to carry them up stairs/ butter their pancakes/read their stories/ watch their steps every time they ran, but they navigate now on their own. Their compasses quiver toward things I cannot see. We promise love to one another up to and beyond death, sure that love alone has no termination.(less)
She was homesick for a world she has never met.
She exists in limbo: stuck in a reality that is never enough and an imagination that is too much.
Afraid of failure, she lived in dreams. She forgot to exist.
But for you she wanted to change it a(more)ll.
She learned to speak, to laugh, to fake. All for you.
You didn't notice. So it goes.
In the end end you were just another bullet point on the list of failures. (less)
Dawn knocks, she opens her eyes and dreams of verdant life.
She dons enchantment: silken skirt and shining smile; form fitting ideal. Grasses wave and bow in the wake of her soft step. They delight in her dance and dream that she will pass by them again, weaving lik(more)e water.
She kisses air with serene song: wind shimmers to her tune. The world is waves and harmony, the weightless walk of birds. Pure-breasted doves follow her light and dream of paradise.
The heavens alight as her starry crown, and night yawns. Ocean washes on sandy seas of meditation.
She lays her head to sweetest sleep; her last dreams are deep.
because when im even just thinking about you its exaggerated
you exaggerate me
i swear to fucking god!!!!
you are like
the COOLEST MOTHERFUCKA
cause you have been on my mind ever since -
since I said "it seems right"
I talk to much until we talk too little
and I end up like malcolm in the middle
hey there chill out bro you are going too quick
let it be natural
like the flow of a river
like winter turns to spring
like a flower blooming in a flower bed of hype and embellishment
lay it on thick.
tall talk me. amplify it and distort it just enough so that it sounds good and feels rich and is the most fucking loud silence and small talk I have ever heard.
i swear it would be so great -
but these superstitions whisper "You're Going to Fuck This One Up Probably Dude"
poor me right?
if I could just be me for once because i feel more like me than I ever have around you -
maybe I could ask you.
be my -
blah blah blah blah blah
blarg blarh balls
i take myself real ser.ious.ly.
you bring my dulled colors into this flavor
like a maya angelou piece
like Badu singing
so detailed and still surprising
let me blow this out of fucking proportion and appreciate it
I just gotta pick up these pieces and spare parts
and do something with them, yup
I'll save me
you be you
things will be good
I wont make it more busy than that
just for now..
just in this moment
be my last(less)
I want you to be mine. Not in the I-own-you sort of way. I just want to be a part of your life. The most important part of your life. Please? Let me be yours.
I want you to be my last. My last love, my last breath.(more) The last thing I think about before I fall asleep tonight. I hope you love me as much as I love you, but I just don't see how that is possible. And as I lay here beside you, all I can do is send these passionate hopes out into the atmosphere. (less)
Be my last great love, for it is so lonely in the darkness. I will be gone soon, but love shall persist throughout the ages. No matter what we do, we will not be remembered, so why try? Let us live for today, until the eternal nothingness seeps over(more) us and drags us down into the despairing abyss that awaits us?
Be my last great companion in this world. We are but human, and it is our nature to love and lust, to live and learn. We may live and lose, but we are born dead, so in the end, we all lose. (less)
Be my last mistake. Be my last option. Be the last person I will run to because there will be a time when I finally find trust in someone else. Be the last person I want to see on a Friday night when I am alone and depressed. Be the last person(more) I would want to think about. Be my last difficult time, my last life obstacle. Be the last time I cry over something worthless. Be the last person to have ever hurt me.
But I ask that you not be my last One. That there might be a chance for me to start anew. I ask that you won't be my last thought of the night, when I am stripped to my most bare and vulnerable self and hurt more than any other time. My dreams tend to reflect on my deepest and darkest thoughts and I fear the possibility of you haunting me in that realm, too.
And if you are to stick around and make things work, then be my last.(less)