the-clearness-is-gone:

the crazy thing about her was that
i knew i was in love but i didn’t know which way.
and maybe it was that i noticed
how sweaters always seemed to fall
on her bony shoulders just right—
and how her eyes made me feel
like the sky during a thunderstorm—
but i think i knew
friends don’t get to thinking about
those sorts of things.
and maybe it was because i knew that she loved
that sad strummy acoustic shit
(because i did too)
or maybe it was because i knew she dreamed about glaciers and mountains
(because i did too)
or of stage managing
with pretty spreadsheets
or dirt between your toes
(i also dreamt of these things).
but she filled my head with other things,
like her laugh
and how it sounded like goldenrod and autumn afternoons
and her murmured words to a campfire anthem
and those sweaters
that always fell just right.
i’m six hundred nineteen point four miles away from her right now and all i can think about is how
she pulls freakin electricity out of my bones, man
she makes my heart feel like a cumulo-fucking-nimbus cloud
and she’s just my friend
the kind of friend to send over songs at midnight
(this one is saving my life, she said),
we’re just friends,
and she tells me to live and do great things
and we’re just friends, just friends, just friends.
but i still wonder
friends shouldn’t get to thinking about these sorts of things.