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Forget

i forgot this year:

fifty-six.

i forgot this year,
and i don’t know
if i’m neglecting

you,
or him.

maybe it’s not my place,
but i want it to be—
but i want it to be

what i meant to be 
for you.

i forgot this year,
and i hope not
to forget again
this year:

two.

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Forever

i have four assholes now,
and also an alien on
my shoulder blade.

these open puncture wounds,
exposed by a racerback shirt,
bring to life a colorful tale,
and honor yours.

i’ll disappoint my parents
on your first birthday in death,
and put to words the story,
that will live forever
(i/o)n me.

i have four assholes now,
and remember i am one too,
but i’ll do my best to rectify
my wrongs of negligence,
that i put unto you.

so you went,

but
i’ll live,
like you.

(i just hope you can see me.)

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