i miss those days
when "tell me something"
i miss the boy who showed his emotion in teeth,
grinning or crying.
death follows even closer
but i lost my home
to a bottle of white zinfandel with a face lost inside and twelve years of yelling.
i'm losing the most valuable thing on earth,
but learned that, ultimately, we all just die alone.
recklessness is calling for me,
but it's mispronouncing my name.