Wooden Nickels.

Grandpa has always been a hero to me. From the money he slipped me when I went away to college, to the times he told me my teeth were falling out because I was kissing boys, there really never was a boring moment around him (even when he fell asleep watching golf... or in Washington D.C... because we all got a good laugh out of it :-) ) . I'll cherish forever Sunday morning dates at Harold's, and all the times I’d sleepover at Grandma and Grandpa with some assortment of cousins. We always begged for his nightshirts, and he’d give away every single one. Plus, he’d always sneak bites of my cinnamon toast when grandma wasn’t looking!

My absolute favorite memory of Grandpa is seeing him seated at the head of the table on Thanksgiving, cursing over the sound of everyone in our family talking at once. It was just so… him! I never grew out of his bear hugs, and whenever I made him laugh, there are few things that matched how proud I’d feel. He’s a complete and total teddy bear, curse words and raspy voice included. I can’t believe how lucky I am.

I’m sad because I miss my hero, but I am so beyond overjoyed that he’s in the most comfortable chair, napping in true fashion. He’s playing rounds of golf and telling God all about the family he loves, and bragging despite the fact that God already knows how very blessed we all are. It’s hard for me to get too down when I have his voice in my ear telling me that he’s proud of what I’m doing with my life.
Grandpa, thank you for my family. Thank you for my wonderful mother who is more inspiring and bubbly than anyone I’ve ever met, and for being who you are so she fell in love with a man so much like yourself, my dad, who motivates me and leads me to be successful.

Because of you, I have 5 aunts and uncles and so many cousins that love each other unconditionally. This family has a passion for life, and we’re unafraid to express it as loudly as possible. I couldn’t be more thankful that I never have to know life without such an amazing, positive influence. I owe my 19 years of wonderful, happy life to you, Grandpa. From the bottom of my heart, thank you, and I’ll continue to listen for your voice in my ears. I’m going to live every second of my life for you, appreciate every single breath, because that’s exactly what you did.

Tell God I said thanks, and try not to pull too many pranks on the angels. I’ll miss you every day. I love you. Don’t take any wooden nickels. :- )

In loving memory of Paul Edward Lewis.

Library.

Break something valuable, even if it ends up being your heart.

I've never been one to believe in this. It's easy to scoff after years of finding solace in masochists and narcissists. It's hard to believe that polka dot umbrella caught my eye. Priced without breaking bank, optimistic in the most grievous of colors. You grow fond of contradictions when you grow leery of taking sides. Something new in your arms, something lost in your pocket, something like excitement rising in your chest. This subtle rush attaches itself to the susceptible and finds a home in my counterparts. Sometimes I get so tired of being grouped with my gender. Baby girls in pink grow up to be curly-haired terrors, carefree and unrestricted; at least, that's what I've always been.

It's time to let the world take a few stair steps above what I can catch. I haven't been lost in a long, long time. Mad lib: Cautious, hesitantly, trusted, learned, independent, defying, typical, angst. Construct the bank around rows of apple trees and call it home, my paperback book left to dust. After all, who really remembers what they only loved for a day? Maybe I'm not the only one who can't help but revisit. My musical collection is consistent; no matter where I go, familiar words spark the same memories. Never out of commission, yet never replaced, this is a library if ever I ran my finger along the spine of my favorite works.

I mean nothing but honesty; do you know who you are? Nothing I can comprehend beyond what I never expected to attempt to. I can't say I expected something so set in its ways to melt away like it has. I'm used to winning every game of hide and seek; I'm used to being to far from reach. I don't intend to get this in check; I intend to suspend in dead space the way I should've long ago. Nothing more than a dent, nothing more than a shiny white scar. This is one height I need to overcome.

Shuffle.

It's one thing to be tired, it's another to be restless.

I'm fed by words streaming through my ears, and I can't help but compartmentalize my thoughts. Have you ever been so immersed in music that your mood changes with the rise and fall of the song? New genre, new mindset. New artist, new voice.

Shift mindsets and expectations; learn what it is to live.

Worth A Chance.

How can you miss something you never knew for certain?

Maybe it's the thrill of searching for something worth making a mess of. Nobody seems worth it past the surface, these days. I'm the brand of picky usually reserved for casting couches. Writing off written confession, reading in written digression.

I swear I understand you. I saw you stare. Never say never, but never say when. I'm worse at heeding my own advice than my pride would ever let on. We have this in common. We'd be the kind of toxic you hate in cheesy pop music.

I've been told I'm infectious, and I've grown far too honest to demand a correction. Fives hands in the sky; I'm the one that's left to be brought down unlaced. I prefer it that way, open-palmed and prepared for something I have to reach for, leap for. Jackpot over scratch-off. I need someone poor. Someone with nothing more than a suit, sustenance, and a dollar they'd rather gamble than invest. I don't believe anything's worthwhile without chances.

Most days, I miss speaking without spitting out profanity. I miss days before everything revolved around where we place our hands. Is there anyone left to get lost with? Lie back on the grass, loosen grip, and sleep under sunshine. Summer stings, and I'm anxious for its colors.

Hurry up, I hate this season. Pink and red color prominence; I'd rather let them trace patterns in my easily-candied eyes. I call the finest hearts home.

My intentions have never been so honest.