Notes

Dear long, dark hair

I write cause I know you'll forget

You could be

Sea green in a wastebasket tomorrow

No repulsion toward my premature indulgences

If you can't recall a word I said

Not like those cheekbones

That crooked nose

No, those fellas stick around too long

Perpetuating every pathetic word that I skew into song

She was my trophy shelf of slip ups

My untamed hormonal Loch Ness shitshow

On late night rotation for months on end

A brick boot swimming lesson

In the deep end of my adolescence

Scrawling notes on the backs of my hands

But I'll start fresh with you

Extracting the rusted attachments

Keeping the diehard nuts, bolts, and screws

We'll go from square one

With the wit of an old pro

And you can fill in the gaps with whatever you know

My long, dark hair