he wouldn’t meet her eyes

when he told her that he met someone,

suggesting they take a break to figure themselves out.

“but I love you,” she said over the lump in her throat,

eyes burning with unshed tears.

“there’s nothing for me to figure out.”

my laughter quieted 

when she looked at me.

there hasn't been anyone else in the world

who makes me as still as she does,

because her eyes sparkle even when

she's frowning,

and she I know she can see

overland park

kansas

usa

earth

milky way



am i supposed to call this home?

i live here

but it isn’t home.



my home is delved deep within the pages of my books

constantly muttering to yourself

a constant hum in the back of your head.

carrying conversations with the walls around you

this is normal mom,

leave me alone mom,

I want to eat in my room tonight mom,

I can’t talk right now mom.