Au Revoir. One Republic

today you talked to me

you looked me in the eye for the first time ever since her and it was air to my gasping lungs
why do the lungs still grasp this air? even when they know it'll start walking away when you do?
you grazed my arm.
and i cried. for that slient pulse that had escaped me for months had just returned home. the son had come home to his perfect parents and i welcomed him.
to feel the son crying on my shoulder
turn around and continue down that road towards the alcohol once again.
and i cried once more. 

how can someone lose so much when in reality they've lost nothing?

the waves in the halls are still present
smiles possibly even brighter now than in the bleak cold
your parents are still tugging on your homestring while you're begging them to give it up.
the accents of consonants haven't changed.
your sibs constantly grasp your ankles so tight that they becomes numb, and you forget they're only trying to get your attention.

so i didnt really lose anything. i never had you. i thought i almost did at one point. and i guess thats what the scariest part of being alive is.

being told no

you made me laugh today.
but this time you didn't touch me. or my drowning lungs.
for we had found a way to make our own air. without help
and i felt alive because i had found the way to live after her.
i found a way to live after you.

thanks for the air when i needed it. you saved me. and ill never forget you.
ill love you. always. 

love tessa

to hardin. whom i will always adore.