i look forward to those late night chat rooms

when i hear about all of those guys you catch eyes with at parties,

and the other girls who have become your new dance partners.

it's going to be nice to miss the ridge together

and crane train,

and eighth period,

those nights at marissa's,

and drives in the parking lot at temple

under the cover of that deep navy sky,

and marveling at how the laughter in our eyes

was able to keep that march chill at bay.

but i also look towards the new things to come.

new hearts to peruse

new lips to press against

new hands to raise

new literature to immerse myself

new minds to intertwine with

creating an immense network

of love and unity.

complete wreaths

made up of individual vines.

but most importantly,

i'm excited to finally

fully appreciate the worth of you,

the warmth and safety of my own bed,

and those few seconds in the car

en route to a destination

when you give the once over in the mirror-

lips, eyes, hair, done.

those pep talks before leaving my bed

and greeting the icy tiles of the bathroom floor.

life's a paradox.

we can't live for the moment,

or else we don't plan for the future.

we can't look at the big picture,

or else we miss the details;

the hardness of a button,

the ambiance of cheap christmas lights,

the comforting scent of incense.

we lose so much in translation.

we feel rush when there's really time.

we cling to the fragments of the past that we want to relive.

don't we realize that during those minutes spent searching,

we waste new memories?

so take each piece of that glass,

that glass that holds you together,

and throw it away.

break everything that's fragile in your life

and make it something concrete.

i'm waiting on the platform for everything i've ever waited for.

(irony? paradox?)

it's unnerving to not press ourselves in the future,

like plastic colorforms.

it's unsettling to discover that,

for once,

you make each decision.