there was a boy whose uncle was colorblind

but a lovely artist-

this boy had 20/20 vision

sort of

& he was a terrible artist

that’s okay

because when I’m sad

he writes me poetry

and finds jokes to make me laugh

maybe I see more than his blue eyes

dark hair

and the way he wears his shirts buttoned all the way to the top

because it’s the small things that make me love him most

 

there was a boy 5 inches taller

and one year younger

when I’m feeling lonely

left to fend for myself

he doesn’t really understand but he still

tells me I’m wonderful

and I know when I call him

he’ll stay up til 3 AM

listening to me just breathe into the telephone

sometimes he dozes off in the middle of a sentence

thats okay too

because between the folds of his favorite teeshirt

and the gaps in his biggest grin

I see pieces of myself

I didn’t know were there

 

when I’m overwhelmed

with this place and its people

the skinny boy with the golden heart

living 677 miles away writes me letters

tells me he misses me

he’s so proud of the person I am becoming

even though right now he has more important

things to do than take care of a little girl back home

he says “I sure do love you.”

and the world is quiet

for one small moment

knowing that maybe I can’t change this place or its people

but I can make it just a little bit brighter

by sharing with them the love he gave me

 

and when I’m happy

the blonde kid who lives 3 blocks down

teases me

tells me to always remember the good times

not to keep them buried deep in the pockets of my jeans

not to stress the small stuff

when we both know I will still take things too seriously

and I will still cry about my math homework

but

at least I know where to go when I need to hear

“you think too much”

“you’ll be fine”

and his personal favorite

“go home if you’re going to complain because oh my

gosh you have so much to be happy about”

 

and when I’m weary

the boy who laughs like a child

wearing thick glasses and his heart on his sleeve

who has steady hands

but a clumsy mouth-

draws me roadmaps

that lead right to his doorstep

and he says-

“dude, you’re alright”

he will go home tonight and rearrange the constellations

to spell the name of the girl who bagged his groceries this afternoon

because she looked heart-broken and no one should feel alone

even though his 18 years of life in this cruel world

have been filled with more tears and heartache

than all of the pain that will be squeezed into

70+ years of messily leaving my fingerprints

on the hearts of those around me

he struggles in his quiet way

brave little soldier

cracking jokes to make

December 3rd hurt a little less every year

 

when I’m feeling unsteady

I don’t do anything

i just watch

the sweetest boy I have ever met  

remembering when I was 4 and he was 6  with sticky fingers

and a propensity for climbing trees

the one my mother tells me to marry

the one his mother wants me to marry

the one who, in a crowded room full of people

watching the most terrifying movie I’ve ever seen

turns around and whispers to me when to close my eyes

so I can sleep at night even though

he’ll leave the lights on and pull the covers up to his neck

tell himself over and over

‘it’s all in your head’

 

and all together they taught me

that I can’t dare give up

this fight

 

don’t you dare give up this battle

because let me tell you something about

these golden hearts.

they beat

they beat

& they beat

so they can pump enough blood per minute

to keep themselves warm

because every spare breath is being used to

hold eachother upright

 

they taught me I am a warrior

you are a warrior

don’t you ever forget it

every morning when you wake up

breathe in dusty sunlight

and let your aching bones

carry weight that belongs on someone

elses shoulders