#spilled-thoughts

I watched the Dominion Queen

Complain bitterly, ceaselessly,

               Disproportionately (male POV)…

About the ruby red un-spiked (thus, staining)

punch I’d spilled on a corner

Of her white – ooh – ahh – dress.

               Enough.

Batting in futility at the stain, with her hand,

And my class ring, hemmed with string,

String to make it fit,

Right-sized to show she was it.

… at that moment,

Thank God there weren’t

               Any scissors near

‘Cuz then I’d really show her something

For an instant,

There she was

Straight from a Cosmo cover:

       I tore her off the street at 70 mph

      Til the next one pick-pocketed

      My endless desires

It's pretty saddening how I usually get excited about my birthday when I was young and how I look forward to it for days. But now the thrill just fades, and a pang of pain inside me just bangs that statement.