you should never be embarrassed by your trouble with living

'cause it's the ones with the sorest throats who have done the most singing.

--

the first time i met her, we were six years old and climbing trees. she wasn't a tomboy, not by any means, but she liked to sit up on the branches.

she was convinced that if she sat still enough on the branches, the birds would come to her.

--

i was twenty two years old that summer when she walked into the dingy hot dog shop i worked at. my shirt had mustard stains on it and it was wrinkled from days of wear without wash. i didn't care. he hair was short and brunette with streaks of red glinting in the sunlight. she had one tooth that stood in front of the others when she smiled, the middle one on the left.

i hadn't seen her in years; her family had moved to massachusetts the summer we turned fifteen. she had sent a few letters, i had sent a few back, but by the time the winter had ended, we had lost contact altogether.


--

as usual, i have lost interest in this.

goddamn.