I am swimming in library of excellence. every hunched hand is scraping their poor pencils into prestige, tapping keyboards into their memory. they are studying.

I am sitting here under a ceiling so big it repeats every noise like thunder, with enough room to hold the heavens. my mind gets so lost in the journey from my notes to those huge windows and I wonder  

when was the last time I cried?

I introduce my bent spine to the back of the wooden chair and blur my eyes until my notes are just a pile of letters.

damn, those letters mean so much here.

I decide to change my studying music to my old favorite song--our old favorite song. it fills my head with you. the peaceful paper kites Bloom into my ears, as I tuck my eyelids closed I wonder

when was the last time I listened to music?

I remember we would waste time so wonderfully laying there, listening to your fingers tickle the guitar strings, letting the harmonies of Rivers and Roads wade in the warmth of your arms and the ocean of blankets.

I miss that.

I miss when things didn’t always have a purpose, when words came so easily to my pencil, when time was just a thing I danced in. I miss when I would feel kisses with all five senses and possibly more, when I could tell the story of one moment with every word in the newspaper. I miss when I’d lay with you in the poetry of breath itself

it was so simple.

everything here is so profound and pretty and probably named after one of my professors, and I won’t lie, life is good. I’ve laughed and danced and twirled around in my drunken freedom, but I miss when coffee wasn’t just for fighting sleep. and when music wasn’t just to block out noise. and when kisses weren’t just to fill the space of slurring lips.

I want to cry. I think I'll do it Wednesday cause to don't have class till one.

as clean up the heaps of words in notebooks I wonder

when was the last time I really wrote a poem?