we're basically just pen pals

Here,
there is music in the tapping of my fingers on this keyboard, in the way they push and pull and patter like raindrops clacking into the web.
there is music in my bed frame creaking, she groans and croaks and was a frog in another life.
there is music in the way my brothers have grown.

Meet Jane:
a princess; with long brown hair that swooshes over her forehead in the biggest, smoothest stylish bangs you've ever seen. If you're going to lose your pen, do it around Jane, she’ll have two tucked into her shirt pocket. We like to talk about the calluses on our hands because other people think we're being climbing snobs, maybe we are a little bit, but for now we haven't tired of running fingertips over changing skin.

---

Em is an enchantress. The boys love her. All of them. Love her. And she can't help it.  She loves them too, but never in the same way, and never in the way they want her to. A brilliant girl with stunningly clear blue eyes that draw everyone in like a stained glass window, like little kids looking up at a rollercoaster. She doesn't like breaking hearts. She just can't help it.

                              ---

Bekah is mom and a perfect one. We might not have been friends normally, but now I love how she looks ecstatic in every picture because she makes herself laugh. Bekah brings us together; Thursday is family dinner, and her apron is on and she cooks and scurries around the house doing everything and doing it wonderfully.

I live in the basement. With two other girls. But lately I've lived more upstairs, up top where the windows are bigger and open and I hear street sounds and birds as I do my homework on Bekah's chair, wrapped in Jane's blanket. where theres a breeze and we make a megabed. I like it there.

and im getting comfortable so I must be moving out in two days, moving states, changing roommates, changing jobs, going.
There is music in this, in the rotation that comes so often and in the cycle of acquaintance to friend to gone.
You’re part of that rhythm, of leaving soon and you've joined the others who came and went and now we've arrived at pen pals. Another new place.

this one is from Everett Mills