If You Find Me

We make attachments to what's familiar. We find the beauty, even in the lack. That's human. We make the best of what we're given.

I answer her with my silence, understanding the full power of it for the first time. Words are weapons. Weapons are powerful. So are unsaid words. So are unused weapons.

I take my hand back, like a leaf letting go. It hurts too much to hang on. So why does it hurt so much to let go?

Funny how we can't hold onto time, even when it's strapped to our wrists

If you find me, take me home.

In a sea of trees turned into a sea of total strangers, familiar means everything.

Wherever you are, I'll be there. Remember?

I know so many words. It's perplexing to come across so many I don't.

My emotions swirl like leaves caught in the breath of a dust devil, and the only thing I can seem to hold onto is the anger.

Fake it through until you make it true.

My sister don't talk much. When she does, it's only to me, in moth-winged whispers, and only when we're alone.

When he looks at her, I can tell his eyes are locked on something in the past--something that seared deeply and left the worst kind of scar: the inside kind.

A world is a world is a world.

Good things come to those who let them in. All you have to do is take a chance.

I hate her with the fury of gasoline set on fire. I burn for Jenessa, who deserves better than this, better than some screwed-up, drug-addicted mother, better than this chaos that always seems to find us, rubbin' off on us like some horrible rash.

My stomach squirms like worms (in a good way) just thinking about him. And I reckon when love's in short supply, you know it all the more when it finds you.

But I like how free sounds all poetic-like.

My life's a tangle of past and present, like two separate puzzles with their pieces tumbled together. Nothing fits.

But it's the eyes that hold me captive, empty of concentric creek ripples and breezy tree branches playing the sky like my bow plays my violin.

I don't tell him I couldn't have gorged if I'd tried, my stomach stuffed full of butterflies and grown-up worries.

If ever there is tomorrow when we’re not together.… there is something you must always remember. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But, the most important thing is, even if we’re apart … I’ll always be with you.

Snow begins to fall, this boneless water turned mighty.

Music is a bridge, it connects folks on a higher level, saying what words can't say.

Mama says no matter how poor folks are, whether you’re a have, a have-not, or break your mama’s back on the cracks in between, the world gives away the best stuff on the cheap

Happiness is free, Mama says, as sure as the blinkin' stars, the withered arms the trees throw down for our fires, the waterproofin' on our skin, and the tongues of wind curlin' the walnut leaves before slidin' down our ears.

I focus on the endless treetops scrapin' the sunset into gooey colors, the birds trillin' and fussin' at our departure. I close my eyes for a second, breathin' in deep to make serious memories, the kind that sick forever.

There are notes for happiness too if you listen past the ache. Light filled notes that wing and soar, that fly by night like the violin constellation, serenading you home. I know because I've been listening for the happiness notes all my life, like a far off music I could almost hear but never capture, not even with my violin.

Music is a bridge, it connects floks on a higher level, saying what words can't say.

Happiness is a song that plays you when you share it with the people who matter the most