dear anna XI

I hope that you wake up every day

happy, ready to get up

just because of where you are.

I pray for you to have hope

in things which are not perfect,

that your future failure will be worth the growth.

My desire for you is to be whole joy all through

free to just be.

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dear anna X

what are you like?

I am too close to see,

your fluid mosaic washes over my memory

 I cannot distinguish between failing and strength

you are so beautiful. All of you is beautiful.

Still delightfully marvelous as in childhood, red-blue

rich in yellow

only growing more lovely with time

I remember you in crayon, water, and glass

my rage always the Frog

to your wise, calm Toad.

dear anna VII

you with your piles of blond hair all wild,

evergreen eyes, you’re the one I wanted to find

when you woke me up, for my heart

falls just where your chest is.

You would have laughed to see me

stumbling, trying to dance today,

standing on the wrong feet

you’d make time for me, I know you would

because we read the same books

and you love Lana as much as she deserves

and you don’t get surprised when

I am covered in paint and crying.

high school (dear anna ii)

Dear Anna,

you are my favourite person on planet earth. That will most likely never change.

However, distance is stretching us to pieces,

hanging on our common threads as they slowly break, snapping quietly

falling to splashdown in the rough Atlantic waters.

It breaks me to hear

of the pressure you feel, the need

for conformity,

the same lies i remember wrecking myself over

being poured into your mind

in hallways, locker rooms, classes,

– it’s probably a good thing I’m not there

otherwise these kids would be walking around with broken jaws –

don’t let that stuff set and dry

in the fresh cerebellum that feeds your heart.

Give it a few more months, and

the sun will shine on both of us

we’ll sleep and dance and sing

and I will take care of you again.

something new.

Dear Anna,

I keep saying to everyone how much I miss you,

but it isn’t direct enough, I want to scream it out since you aren’t here

and that’s what is on my mind.

Today, I walked out into the frigid air and tossed my head back the way you always do,

arms out, just experiencing exactly where you are to the fullest you possibly can.

Snowflakes tumbled all over me, my

eyelashes were covered in little fluffy flakes.

If you had been there, you would have

understood how weird all this is, that

something as little as snowflakes in eyelashes is

totally new and foreign, overwhelmingly strange.

Someone sang a song we’ve sung countless times in the kitchen,

I carried the harmony without even thinking, half-expecting

your mellow tones to spring up out of the air and croon out the melody

in that dusky, raw voice of yours.

We’re older, yes, we’re growing, things are changing,

but that doesn’t change the fact

that no one asks me what I dreamed about

when I wake up.