And then all that we receive (idea)
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We take great account of [the things we give away] to the strangers who pass through our lives, and who touch those lives more closely than we touch theirs. We take [great pains] to attempt to explain to them how much we have lost, but still those things that we receive [the music crept by me upon the waters | creep by upon stiller waters], reaching up, quietly deconstructing and rearranging, making homes in hard hearts where we'd thought nothing could grow.
We let them make homes in the empty places that seek still to reconcile all we let slip by, [and never think to wonder why the holes have ceased to hurt].
This is what you have given me, my friends:
This is to the [I am Holden Caulfield | little boy] who wore the [Converse All-Stars] in one hundred different colors, and whose ghost will not allow me any other kind of shoe.
Here is for the man in the [the rain of my heart, a rose | bright blue pickup], that has alerted my eyes to any vehicle that matches the profile, even though I know it and he are [far away].
This is for [fortress around your heart | your favorite song], and how you played it like a [harbinger] of all that I would feel today, back when you thought that it meant something about us then.
This is left for all the ways that I will never be the same.
Here is for this new part, this tiny little seed digging down into the walls of a beating [atrium], trying to push its way into the blood of my body, three cells down from the place where I swore I had [lost my nerve]. Here is for the seed of all of the love [I'm sorry | I never knew / pushed away / couldn't respond to]; here is for all of the ones who felt just like I did/do when I wrote these miserable anthems and mushy diatribes, those poems and poems about [loss].
Here is for the way that [the things we give away | I gave so much away], and yet still I have so much more ([I have lost many things, so many | so much, so much]) than I had. This is for the way the seeds have [germinate]d, taken root, and begun to patch with brand new leaves those holes I thought I'd won -- those holes now overflowing, full of wonder, [unaware of what I think they used to have].