Senior Year

these days pass quickly
yet never seem to end
seconds turn into months
which jumble together in memories--
like a drawerful of polaroids--
bright moments, big smiles, candid shots, and poses alike.
trying to differentiate and determine
where the days went
proves difficult.

oh, the days pass quickly and quietly
even the loud ones whisper as they end.
the ran falls, blurring together things we'd never forget.
the sun shines, leaving burns
and memories of hours passed.
the leaves fall and bury the
things i think walking past them.
even the most important thoughts lie
deeply hidden under a blanket of autumn.

the sparkling snow freezes and
preserves winter excitement
while day-to-days get lost in the shuffle
of boots in slush and hats over
red ears and mittens held to icy cold lips--
leaving those muffled conversations
forgotten over cups of hot chocolate.

even the courageous spring moments
found amongst the brave budding trees
are lost in much-appreciated sunshine
and blankets on the grass
and laughter.

the days pass quickly and bruise as they brush past
leaving a small pang of regret
mostly overshadowed by feelings of love,
life, and excitement for all of the
tomorrows holding so many promises.

the tomorrows pass quickly, too
and life goes stealthily roaring by--
lost in busyness and boredom and blahs
lost in smiles and sadness and sleep
lost in those days, just moments really--
strung together like a
rosary--and, when looked at as a whole,
reminiscent of the sacred,
fleeting beauty of life.

and those times, those days, those years
that lasted forever
have become yesterdays.

Crying, Walking in the Rain

there's nothing poetic about crying in the rain.

the splashing, icy drops do less to obscure your heartache

and more to magnify your pain.

there's nothing romantic about the walk.

the rainy one, where you are crying,

stepping in muddy puddles not visible

through the cruel mix of water and tears.

it's not like a movie, the rolling thunder.

it does nothing to disguise the sound of approaching tires.

his car never pulls along beside you

he never jumps out and embraces you

he does not even know that you are

crying, walking in the rain.

and if he did,

he would say you were

being dramatic.

which might be true, but seems hard to avoid

when the heartbreak pounds as relentlessly as the rain.

and even though you know

countless people throughout all of time

have felt this same

isolation

this same desperation in the face of an

unfathomable storm

you feel alone

and unique in your misery

and every red car that isn't his

is a reminder of just how alone

you really are.