if you're reading this.

your voice goes up an octave when you're lying.

octaves.

you learned how to play the piano within 5 minutes and it took me 17 years.  

but you play because your heart wants you to,

not your mother

or your hands.

you have the notes of my favorite song on the back of your eyelids

and the only thing that's wrong is your rhythm.

but who cares.

it's my favorite song.

and my hands are covered in notes

as black and white as the keyboard.

the kind of notes that the brain is brewing,

but the ink can't breed.

they're making more noise than they should,

and sound like lyrics I keep forgetting to show you

and the rain.

but we found our spots in two chairs one day

with nimble hellos

and a conversation that broke your heart

and took the wall over your eyes with it.

we broke free.

knocked down all the barricades, 

sending our apologies with them.

we cried twice.

and spent the rest of our oxygen on laughter.

and 9 months

became 18 years of shared scars,

100 cures for every sadness,

98 knocks on the door,

370 lost breaths,

and enough poems to turn the sad music into our favorite playlist.

16 rainy days

and none of them made us cry.

you are important.

you are important because you're the face behind 5,107 words I wrote,

10,000 ideas I came up with,

10 pairs of bowling shoes and ice skates

and at least 1 mended heart.

you are 1 boy

man

person

human

character

lover

brother

son

piece of the puzzle

and I am part of you.

you're the face and the name behind every closed eye

and open heart

and these hands have seen 9 months of good weather

but the storm won't close in on me yet.

because you made a roof over me,

out of dinner receipts and aux cords,

and the smudge-your-letters kinds of tears.

you made a roof over me

with callouses on your palms.

but you made a roof over me

since you vowed

not to leave me

in the rain.

they might be watching as the windows shut,

but the door is still open

and I can hear your voice on the other end of my heartstrings.

let's lock lips one more time

before it becomes an infinite number of times.

because that's all this is.

the start of infinity.

and people are infinite.

goodbyes are not.