if life is really as short as they say, then why are the nights so long?

1. Childlike notes under my bed, I unravel and read all old promises;

most are broken and rusted and gone, what is forever, anyway?

Maybe we have already lived a forever and a half,

you and I, made of old hearts and young minds.

‘Love’ was never so overused; it was kept safe and protected,

Like a tiny bird in a golden cage; our hearts stayed within our ribs;

our fragile chests with no lock or key.

I did not know that I loved, but I did, oh and how so;

the color yellow, the middle swing, the sound of cars on lonely days-

Their effects on me are ghostly now; provoking only a faint blush of my heart.

but more important than all of these things?

The knowledge that we were happy and will be again, soon enough.

2. Memories do not scare me anymore, you see--

I’ve learned to remember without the fear of bittersweet nostalgia overwhelming my all.

They are not to be forgotten, and they are not to hurt;

they are placid and peaceful now.

The shadows are not so dangerous nor the nights so troublesome.

Insomnia is no longer scary for these secrets no longer consume me;

I wrap them up in sheets of opaque paper,

I tie bows of silk ribbons upon these ghosts.

The monsters under my bed are not harmless, you see,

but they rip me to shreds no longer.

My loneliness these nights may still be long-lived

but tell me, whose isn’t?

And it’s a strange thing to be able to organize folders I’ve been meaning to for months, to unfold pieces of paper that were once so cherished and 4’6” still shots that are no longer meaningful but are simply the blend of a boy, a girl, and colors as faded as the promises they once stood for. I see the happiness in the girl’s eyes as she clings to a boy who seems so hollow and abstract now. And I feel like I should cry--for the love, for the loss, for the fact that I always tend to be so damn dramatic. But my tears can’t reach the surface no matter how hard I strain my eyes and for the first time in a long time…no anger, bitterness, sorrow, longing.

For the first time in a long time I feel nothing. And for this, I am ecstatic.