I’m sorry that my friends
would not stop knock-knock-ditching
your bedroom door,
but you must understand:
it was as annoying for me
as it was for you
to hear them talk
about your guitar,
your earrings,
your long hair,
your blue eyes,
and all I wanted to do
was gag
and go back
to drawing mustaches
on sleeping faces.
These "confessions" are painfully honest thoughts about general memories that I have. When you grow up with five older brothers, your friends are rarely focused on you when they're at your house. Sleepovers consisted of rolling my own eyes as my friends made dreamy ones at my skater/rockband brothers who usually didn't even notice the attention and went to hide in their rooms. The memories are somehow both irritating and laughable at once.
ReplyDeleteI laughed pretty hard at this one!
ReplyDelete