Dear boy,

June 13, 2009
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A dull connection,
you are a ghost that runs marathons inside of me.
the things I was born with, a racetrack.
you're the colorful scarf hiding up my sleeve,
that just doesn't end, no matter how hard I pull.
you're the answer without the question.
you're the protagonist that never needed the antagonist.
I was reminded of these things.
because of the dead finch in my driveway.
and his socks never matched.
and my nail polished was chipped the day,
and because the others never did stay.





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