It seems that spring brings changes of different madnitudes each year. A time of rebirth, moving on, finishing up the year in academia. Friends graduate and move on with their lives and I will be moving on with mine into a new apartment. Can we remember to breath when the world seems spinning to fast to hold on to this time? Sunday mornings spent over breakfast warm my heart and give me hope that not all friendships die.
I've fogged up the windows again,
shooting my mouth off
and laughing a little too loud.
I promise to not keep you awake
if you promise to not kick me out.
The conditions are new
and I'm unsure of where I stand.
I promise not to get hurt,
if you promise not to keep picking me up at 3 am,
if you promise not to tell me things I don't need to know.
I promise to keep my distance
staying on my side of the fence
as long as you don't jump the pickets.