Deaf songs.

I wish I could print all my memories and keep them in a photo album, or better yet a scrapbook. If I could show you how I sometimes see the world and how I used to see it and how my thoughts sometimes write songs I can't sing and lyrics I don't understand, maybe if I could do this if I could show you who I really am and not the handicapped, speech impaired, blind, deaf person I sometimes appear to be. Maybe then you could see why I like you so much, if you could see the memories you create and the songs you make me sing and the poetry my heart sings in deaf, incoherent but oh so colorful words. Maybe then you and I. Maybe you. One day I will, I promise.

Garage Sale

My heart is having a garage sale. Old crushes' pictures, tarnished love letters, teenage poetry going for $10 a piece. Dead ends, what if's and painful memories are 2 for $5. After this,making space for us and our baggage and moving you in. I don't care if it's heavy, come, you can rest in here.

Fitzsimmons

This has been speaking to me for a while, this guy is insane wish someday I could write/sing/play like him. Hope you enjoy:

Grammar rupture and word erupted.

And i'd like you to see the wall we will sit in, and the smell of wet bricks after the afternoon shower. The picture we took in the polaroid I never had and the diary I've never written about you and the song I haven't written about us. The blanket your mom gave us because you were cold in your living room and the movies I promised to watch, and we did. How I've written and written and I just found out it was about you and the way you don't seem to fit any type of person I will ever meet. The way you speak for yourself and others and the warmth I feel when you do. And whatever you went off to study at college and you were incredibly good at, and the way your dad talks about you and the way you're his little girl. Remember when I first met you? you fell asleep in the bus, and you love my music, and yes it is OUR playlist. I hope you understand that each song is for you, they were just kind enough to write it for me. And the way I met all your friends, your real friends, and were you grew up and were you spent your summers, and were we spent ours, and were I moved one day, and were I saw you for the first time, when I saw you for the first time and I really saw you.

I found a key today.

I found it in your room. At first, i thought it was the key to your diary, but I realized that could only bring more mysteries to your already confusing ways. Then, I thought it was a key to your thoughts, but I realized that would only dull our much interesting conversations. Finally, I realized it was a key to and already open house. Beautifully lit, gorgeous arrangements and warm rooms. Amazing pictures hung in the walls, pictures of you, pictures of me, pictures of your family, pictures of a childhood, of a beautiful little girl. Then I found a door, a blank door, yet warm and welcoming. I realized the door spoke to me, your heart spoke to me, a welcoming sound it spoke. I stepped in and marveled in awe at the fullness of your heart, of your words, of your songs. But above all this, i was touched by the space set up for me. I sat down, content in you, in the space you gave me, the space of your heart you decided to give me.

I found a key today
I found your key today.