That Feeling When your face holds a smile But inside you are frowning When you feel afloat But suddenly realize you're drowning When you're screaming and shouting But there's no one to hear When you try to seem strong While you tremble with fear When you don't want to stand out And try hard to blend When you listen for something; But all you hear is the wind When you look for a person To help piece you together But the whole world is empty And full of bad weather When you fight through the storm For the hope of tomorrow And pray it will end this reality called sorrow

Happy I feel happy inside because I didn't look for flaws in the mirror, I didn't assume compliments were lies, I stopped trying hard to be liked by others, I was okay with being alone sometimes I know He made me the way I am for a reason, And I kind of started liking who I am.

The Large Box Things only enter, Never leaving. But it keeps me sane, Alive and breathing. The box never overflows, It's size ever-increasing Always something to add, The flow not ceasing It holds my pleasures, thoughts, and regrets. Inside the large box, discover my secrets.

Hollow Sometimes it can't get better Despite the desperate tries But we suffer inside and Are simply unwise We loose the harsh truths But choose the kind lies And our loneliness Is realized by the deepest of sighs For our happiest moments Lead to the longest of cries

My Gracie My old knees ached as I walked up the grassy hill to meet her. It had been too long since I had visited with my dear Gracie. “Hello darling.” I said as I finally sat down next to her in the grass. “I’ve been missing you, but you know that don’t you?” I chuckled to myself. I told her that I had been thinking about my #life, and that the only parts I remembered clearly were the parts that involved her. I then began to recall these moments of which seemed to be from another #life, when we were innocent and love was all we knew. “I can still recall the exact moment I first laid eyes on you. I had been walking across town to go celebrate with Jacob. His father, Jacob Sr., was just elected place on town council. In our small town of Radcliff, Tennessee, this deserved a party. I walked towards the lake, and when I finally arrived, I looked out over the sea of people and was able to place each face with a name. You can see now why I was baffled by your sight. You wore a turquoise, knee-length dress. You always said I never notice what you wear, but this image of you is permanently etched into my mind, no matter how old I am. I looked up from your floral dress, saw your bright blond curls cascading onto your shoulders, and thought you were beautiful. I hadn’t even seen your face yet. Then you turned around, and Gracie, I was a goner. A white aura seemed followed you as you waltzed around and visited with others, your smile becoming more radiant with each encounter. I was confused. I wondered who you came with, hoped you’d be staying, and longed to touch you or at least be near that smile. I stood around for a good ten minutes, simply drooling over your exquisite beauty. I’m sure I rudely ignored some that tried to approach me and make small talk. I took awhile longer, then finally summed up my courage and walked towards you. Once I got close enough, I saw the intricate details of your face, your freckled cheeks and defined cheekbones. I wanted you more than I’d ever wanted anything in my #life. I then willed myself to look away for just a moment. That’s when I saw it. Or him, rather. Your fingers were intertwined with his, and I could tell by the look in his eyes that he would never love you as much as I could. I stepped closer and heard your discussion with Mr. and Mrs. Albert. ‘We plan to marry sometime around mid July. That will give me enough time to make extravagant plans for my Grace.’ The disgusting man said. My heart dropped to my feet and I sulked away, no longer in the mood to celebrate. That was April 2, 1913, which I remember because it was the day before my twentieth birthday. And I remember that was the worst birthday I ever had, knowing that I had to have you, but coming into awareness that there was no way I could. After that day, I was frightened by my compulsion towards you, but that didn’t mean I wanted to stop it. I had always been competitive, and you were the shiniest trophy I’d ever hoped for. I saw your fiancé around town and soon learned that he was the nephew of Laura and Sam Gibbons, and they were the only family he had left. His name was Lewis and he was a lawyer. He wasn’t afraid to flaunt his money around, which drove me insane. My family had always had just enough to get by, but now I knew this could significantly lessen my chances with you. You seemed too classy, and it only made sense you were into sophisticated, rich men. I, on the other hand, was a worker. I lifted heavy loads and brought them wherever needed, most of the time just as favors for my friends and neighbors. I also helped with some farming, but I definitely made minimum wage. Then here comes Lewis, bringing you to my town to marry right in front of my face. Sorry, sweetie, but I couldn’t have it. I remember one day I heard my sister, Shelby, and her friend giggling and whispering about Lewis. I almost slapped the grin off her face. She called me jealous, and I was too honest to deny it. Shelby got an apologetic look on her face, and the next day she let me know you were coming for lunch. Lewis was busy; thank the Lord, with some lawyer business, so you came by yourself. You knocked on the door ten minutes late; you always arrived when you pleased, not when you were asked. I can still feel the touch of your skin on mine the moment we first shook hands. It felt so warm, yet a shiver still tingled up my arm. I could tell you felt it too because you gave a small intake of breath then smiled and looked into my eyes. Shelby cleared her throat, and the three of us were seated. We talked for two hours, and when Shelby had other plans and left, you got up, as if you were going to leave, but you didn’t. You were polite and mannerly, never going too deep into one conversation, or giving too much away about yourself. So, I kept the conversation light as well. The sun was beginning to set when we said our goodbyes. You were walking away from the house when I called out, ‘I wish we could do this again.’ You looked back at me and grinned. As I watched you continue to walk away, I heard you call out, ‘We could.’ Over the next month, we met for lunch about twice a week. Lewis was at work, so it was just the two of us. You never mentioned your fiancé, so I didn’t either. The afternoons drew into evenings because when we talked, Gracie, we could talk. When you got angry, you crinkled your nose. You were mad that I had begun to call you Gracie. You complained that only your parents called you that and it made you seem childish. ‘You’re acting like a little girl right now.’ I replied. We laughed together, and fought together. We talked about our lives, what we wished we could change. After one of our meetings, you told me, ‘A smart woman wouldn’t be doing this. I’m scheduled to be married, you know.’ You then turned around and walked off before I could say anything. That’s when I knew you wanted me. We still met often, and I saw you less and less with your “beloved” Lewis. I felt immense satisfaction when you would complain about him, how he treated you like one of his possessions, thought he knew what was best for you. You two had only even gone on four dates before he extravagantly proposed to you. I guess he felt what I did and knew you had to be with him. When you talked about him, I noticed that your expression never changed. You talked about him like someone you barely knew, but were forced to be with. I knew you could see the happiness and hopefulness I tried to repress when you complained. You knew me, and although we had visited a small number of times, I knew you. It got harder and harder as these meetings continued not to hold you and say ‘Run away with me.’ I wanted you to choose so badly, but I feared you saw me as only a friend. At least, I did, until the best day of my entire #life. Lewis was over in Nashville for a dinner with some esteemed colleagues. He wanted to show you off to them; I’d heard him say it in Johnson’s Table, where I had eaten lunch a few days before. I figured I wouldn’t be seeing you for awhile, so I went back home and moped around, offering to help when my heart wasn’t in it. I was raking the leaves in my backyard when you came up behind me. I didn’t hear you coming at all, you being so light on your feet and all. My first instinct was that Lewis had found out that I was smitten by his girl, and he’d come to straighten me out. ‘You just squealed like a little girl!’ You said, not attempting to hold back your laughter. I grabbed your waist and spun you around, ‘You take that back, Gracie!’ You yelped and laughed then faced me, still in my arms. You looked up at me with your dark blue eyes. You leaned towards me and I squeezed you tighter. The kiss was soft yet passionate. I was surprised when it was me who drew away first. I just knew that it wasn’t right. You looked up at me, confused. ‘You have to choose,’ was all I said to you. You broke herself apart from the embrace but held my hand, and led me a little ways away. The whole time you were guiding me, you never turned around or said a word. I can not even tell you how glad I was for that because, honey, I was a mess. First I was shaking, the excitement and passion coursing through my veins. Then I became emotional, so happy to be with you at that exact moment, wishing it could last forever. We went into the small forest a little ways from my house, and you had a small picnic set up for us. I’m sure it was great, but all I could see was you. All I could taste was your sweet lips against mine, and all I could think about was how much I was in love with you. That night, you told me three things. You weren’t going to marry Lewis anymore. The kiss was no mistake. And that you loved me. You loved me. No matter how many times I say it, think it, or hear it, I still can’t fathom it. Oh, there were so many amazing little moments that I wish I could relive time and time again. One of my favorites was the wedding. The week before, you were nervous and frantic, running around anxiously. We argued about the silliest things. I remember you almost exploded when I wanted white roses to be in the church but you wanted red. ‘A red rose is like love with passion. White is boring, plain.’ You told me, not willing to give in. ‘A white rose is like the way I see you; no imperfections and simply beautiful.’ You bit the inside of your cheek thoughtfully then said, ‘Fine. We will have pink roses. A mix of what you love about me and what I love about you.’ You tried to look angry but I tilted up your chin, kissed you, and said, ‘Perfect.’ You walked down the aisle in your white dress, and tears rolled down my cheeks. I wasn’t embarrassed; I was a blessed man, knew there was no love that exceeded mine for you. We said our ‘I Do’s’ and you were my wife. I couldn’t describe the excessive glee I felt inside. A few years later, my next best memory arrived. Our little Cara was born, and she was almost as beautiful as you. As the years went by, we learned she was as sassy and determined, as well. She had your blue eyes and freckles, but my dark hair. She was a combination of the things I loved most about you, and the things you loved about me. Cara was a handful at her best, but we were some darn good parents, you and me. She was always smart at school and came to us with her problems. She did grow up fast, a blink of an eye. Before I knew it, she had gotten accepted to Yale. We were so proud of her; she was living a successful #life. I remember how we stood together and cried as she left us to go to college. The years went by so fast. We filled those years with everything we could though, baby. Everyday I woke up with you was a start to another grand adventure. You and I were really together through it all, weren’t we? I walked Cara down the aisle to her new future, thinking about when we were young and falling in love. On my 64th birthday, I came home and sitting on the front porch was a bouquet of pink roses. I laughed and called out ‘Honey, you never forget, do you?’ As I walked inside I saw you laying on the sofa, whimpering. I put the roses down and hurried to your side. ‘Baby, you okay?’ I said with fear thrashing inside my chest, knowing it was not okay. You looked up at me slowly, holding your stomach and groaning. ‘Talk to me, Gracie. What’s hurting?’ I was so afraid; nothing like this had ever happened, and we both knew we were getting old. I called a doctor, and he arrived decades later. I sat with you, holding your wrinkled hand, looking into the beauty of your aged face. Finally, the doctor sat. I never forgot what he said, no matter how hard I've tried. ‘It’s cancer. I’m incredibly sorry, but there’s really nothing we can do. We are working hard to find some kind of cure, but for now, the best we can do is wait.’ At the word, cancer, you had finally looked into my eyes. The look was tear-filled, and you looked so afraid, so innocent, that I broke into tears. ‘What do you mean there’s nothing you can do?’ I turned on the doctor, going from sorrowful to furious. ‘You're going to let the love of my #life die?!’ This upset you more, and I felt so horrible inside, like I was the one hurting you, not the cancer. I apologized and the doctor said some medical terms that flew over my head. He told us you were welcome to take some tests in the hospital if you wanted, but it wasn’t necessity. You shook your head so I walked the doctor out. ‘How long do you think she has, Doc?’ I said when she couldn’t hear. ‘Hard to say. It has already started to spread in the stomach. Could be anywhere between three weeks and a year. I’m so sorry, sir.’ I watched the doctor walk away, all the while crying. I finally straightened myself out and went back to see you, a weak smile on my face. The smile became more real as I saw that you had tried to do the same for me. Every second of every day from that point forward, I was there. My bouquet of pink roses lay on the kitchen table, unmoved. As the flowers wilted, baby, I saw you do the same. My love for you grew with every petal that fell. Cara came by often to be with us, we loved her for that. What a good kid we had, Gracie. I remember how you would talk to me, tell me you were scared but knew the Lord had a plan for you, and for me too. I told you all my fears and dreams, as well. You were 63, too young, when cancer finally snatched you out of my #life. I cried for days and wouldn’t eat. Cara was with me all the time, but neither of us was really there. The roses were gray, as was everything in #life. Over time, we’ve gotten better though. My heart will never heal, but my mind did. I knew I had to be strong for our baby girl and for myself. You loved me so much, and Gracie, I don’t even know why. You are the most precious memory of my #life, baby. And I miss you now even more than I wanted you the first time I saw you in that knee-length, turquoise dress.” I closed my eyes for a few moments, praying. Then I stood up slowly, never wanting to leave her side. I took some deep breaths and knew I should be getting back to the house. Home was still there though, by my Gracie’s side. I placed a single pink rose in front of her grave, and cried as I was forced to say goodbye again.