things to take to college

1. between the two of us, we have eaten miles
of pavement, we have spent months pressing
the same four wheels into the ground.
whenever you need to, follow those tracks again.
they will lead you back home.

2. there are songs i only figured out how to sing
with you beside me. even now, the words
sound awkward in my throat.
the notes are wrong. i’m not sure what makes
something sacred, but words like that
i only know how to sing with a quiet
reverence i can’t seem to find anymore.

3. i am good at writing poems that convince
people to stay. i don’t know how to write
a poem to someone that i know is going to leave
no matter what i say.

4. you have faith in spades. and i’m not talking about
god. i’m talking about that tangible faith in
humanity, the faith that always makes you
ask me how my day was, even if the answer
is always the same.

5. to be truthful, i don’t want you to stay.
some people are made for the great unknown.

6. we have watched more sunsets relax
into dusk than i can count. thirteen years from now,
i will still be trying to write the poem that changes
the world. you will have found your permanence.

7. sometimes, it rains. remember that. remember
that sometimes, it will pour but it will
not wash away your foundations, it will not
cause a flood. you will stay standing, even
when it rains.

8. go. drive. pack a couple of records, some extra shirts.
a pillow for the sleepless nights, a blanket
for the warm ones. put the book that never fails
to make you cry in the seat where i usually sit.
keep your mother first on your speed dial,
keep your old life pressed into the soles of your feet. go.

9. i am not the person i was two years ago.
i am miles away from that person,
parkways and streets and interstates and
short cuts away from who i used to be.

you have shaped me in ways i know i won’t
realize until i am years older and listening
to your old favorite song spill into my ears.

i know already that that ache for things long gone
will be a good one. thank you.