Do You Remember

Writing this about me.

Because I do. Constantly.

fast forwarding.......fast forwarding....(insert that..like, you know, buzzity fast forward noise) until we come to a battered man of 29. oh no, he wears glasses...but wait! he doesn't have to. he wears the fake nerd glasses because he thinks the girlies like the nerd look. they dont see him though. in fact, they never did. he shaves his head and prays that god is made of math. he wonders about the little boy he trampled, and worries that swings will no longer make sense. he is lost in a life of living, and he dies alone with his jewels. miles away a woman sobs, but continues to iron. "mourning will always come after the chores." she says. her tears fall silently as a husband snores next door, and her eyes follow quickly as the tear incinerates itself on the dancing metal plate. "lifes funny." she thinks as her tears press the clothes that the wrong man will wear.

And I can't stand it, because now I fear it's coming true somedays.