You are in school. School ends. Quickly. It’s shit you will not remember in five years. I went to school in the middle of a race war and couldn’t tell you the first thing about what I did for those four years.
What you living through is an actual nothing event. It means literally nothing. Just chill out, and enjoy watching everybody swell and talk about their mortgages at your ten year reunion.
I see you all,
Standing under flower wrapped arches,
dressed your best with tears of joy
dripping like neglected faucets,
weeping as the trees do this time of year.
I do. I vow. You do.
I exchanged vows with myself
and I didn’t need a ring
to cut my circulation off.
My insensitive comments
are my date, my plus one,
and my gifts to you come from
a wilted heart which began dying in summer.
By fall it all dried up,
ready to rake away and add to the pile,
to rot and decay until next spring
when perhaps it will help something grow.
I really wish I could just forget you.