This is my reality.
My brother wrote this.
Sweep me off my feet.
I hung your dog-tags up as a reminder of the promise you made to your country, and the promise I made to you.
I’ve gotten all too comfortable with saying goodbye.
I realized that I need you, and I was wondering if you could come home.
I could curl around your voice the way a body does a pillow. Your words are waves of calm tucking me into a sea of blankets.
Fourteen letters, six syllables, two words all committed to paper with pen. Enlisting help from a greater cause, you became better at running and left for a marathon with no end.
The girl with big city dreams fell in love with the hometown hero. And everyone thought they were going to get married.