Evan
Mom got off of work to come see my play. Did you? Do you even know how much this means to me -- more than my goddamn birthday. Yeah, I know I missed the only party you've ever had but how many of those guests do you still consider your friends today? That's what I thought; I'm praying for you -- I'm praying for your sake that just once you'll do the right thing for yourself. I already know you aren't coming but it'd be grand that when I'm onstage, I'll see you out in the crowd, in the dark and through the fog and instead of dramatic, false tears -- they'll be real. And for you and I can see it and it'd well up inside me until I burst like I was selling the idea of my own daughter dying. After the show, would you walk away or say hello? Would you say great job and I've missed you but I gotta go? Or not at all? Would I never see your face because you slipped out the back, cause it's better for me to know you had never gone? Would you text midway through my show and say you couldn't cause work had said no? Would you apologize or just spell socks? Es lo que es. I guess I'll spell socks cause no one else bothered to warn me you wouldn't show up. But hey, maybe you did yet in a language I couldn't decipher. But that, baby, is for another poem later.
YOU ARE READING
How I Love You
Poetry". . . . Then must you speak / Of one that lov'd not wisely but too well; / Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought, / Perplex'd in the extreme. . . ." -Act 5, Scene 2 of Othello by W. Shakespeare A collection of poems to the boys and men I hav...
