vienna

sources: l.e.s. by donald glover // this year by the mountain goats // maya hornbacher, madness // watchisjawdrop on tumblr // wuntrum on tumblr // kim kardashian // unknown // godblessryankent on tiktok // nayyirah waheed // unknown // lev st. valentine

It's a box that a pair of vans I bought came in. I wore those vans until the soles were bald and still don't have the heart to throw them away, because I walked so many miles in them with you. We walked everywhere in our little hometown, you gave new meaning to everything that grew gray. The lamp post at the bottom of my driveway will never look the same to me because I still see your silhouette standing in its orange light. My mailbox will always be permeated by a cloud of childlike wonder because of how many times I opened it to find your stylish writing waiting there for me to pour myself over.

In that box, I have every single letter, picture, postcard, and vinyl sticker you ever sent to me. It's your box, it's all I have left of you and that balmy summer we shared. The perfume you rolled over the paper still has its smell and it's like you're in the room with me every time I open the crinkled pages. I love the way you write. And boy oh boy, I love you.

It brings me comfort to sleep over those words. To know that those memories are a foot beneath my dreaming head at any given time. To know those memories are better than any dream I could contrive. You feel like home to me, a piece of myself that I liked a little better and loved a little more than I could ever love myself.