Timelines of Honey

there are nights
when i can scarcely remember
the way your voice
would call my name.
when i cannot recall
the way you would roll your eyes
when i would say something stupid,
which was often.
but then,
there are other nights
when i am there,
in your arms,
and the smell of your wild hair
would pull me deeper
into your honey-soaked eyes
and every cell in my body
remembers you.



here’s to the dads
that stuck around.
to the dads
that made an effort.
to the dads
that never backed down.
to the dads
that stepped up.
to the dads
that put roofs over our heads
and food in our mouths
and when the world starts to fall apart,
they take off their capes
and tell us
that everything is going to be okay.
here’s to you,
i love you.


1:07 am

Sometimes I’ll stay up late so I can open my window and listen to the crickets outside. In the summer they tend to gather in larger numbers and create quite the ensemble, so I’ve taken to listening to their little performances from night to night. I find it to be rather soothing. So I lay in bed and rest my eyes, cool summer air wafting through my window, and simply listen. Some nights a bird I don’t quite recognize will join in with a kind of slow, somber warble and other nights, an owl or two will hoot in a quiet kind of way. They don’t really play for anyone and I guess that’s what makes listening to them so special.


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