hello, my old friend.

i tug hard at 3 hoping that Fate is watching 

but you pulled on B because to you we were plan D but to me we were the whole damn alphabet

so this is about unrequited love. 

you taught me how to cuss when i heard you say jesus christ but you weren’t talking about him the way i’m used to. 

the way i used to. 

but this isn’t about you. 

its about an apple and the pack of 5 apples that I just bought which is a weird number because its not quite a bushel but its more than a little. 

this is about brown bruises on their skin and the brown bruises in your eyes.

this is about how blue isn’t as pretty to me anymore. 

surprisingly enough, this is about america. 

and politics. 

and how your heart is congress and my bill just got thrown out. 

this is an extended metaphor for a kite in the sky and two feet on the ground, 

four feet sinking in mud and fingers playing with strings. 

kite strings and guitar strings 

and both ways i’m bleeding. 

this is about smoke and how it makes your hair smell and this is about some kid named Cade that made me wish to be different. 

this is about the kid that went in at 18 and he is clawing his way out at 26. 

this isn’t about unrequited love, 

its just about love. 

because it doesn’t need to be qualified. 

this is about one human heart beating with another, 

beating to another, 

beating up another. 

this is about how your voice is a little deeper than i thought it would be.