you know i’ve still got a little bit of color in my cheeks.
dirt under the nails mixed with bits of chocolate from rolling warm sweet truffles.
i’m tough as nails, they say. but my girlfriend says my laugh is a good one.
i had begun to think no one understood me the way you did. you got me. i thought. i was so very very wrong.
you had me. you don’t anymore.
i’m walking down this street and there are exposed pieces of the road, remnants from an old trolley car that diverted through my neighborhood, going past the fire station and into my yard, through the garden. hg wells would have been quite proud, turning the wheels and seeing where i’d been.
people still surprise me. that’s what reminds me that i’m still alive. i still laugh at the most inconvenient moments. that’s what reminds me that i’m still me.
one year passes. fuck the accents. bring me something beautiful for my next year.
i’ll bake you a cake full of goodness and trust. i’ll bake you a cake full of trinkets and lust. i’ll send you a fella who gives you the biggest brightest smile. i’ll remind you that he’s just been preheating for a while. i’ll write crappy poems on blogs most shall never read. i’ll say happy birthday miss sarah, now go smoke some (gasp! cough! cough!)…
dedicated to the friend who is exactly two years and one week younger than me today.