When  2012 happened
I was sprayed with champagne
in a room with painted dragons
on the walls and my forty closest
friends were kissing and smiling.
Boys with long hair wrestled
and the cab outside honked
until the neighbors yelled
profanities and it fell silent.
Ex lovers ran for cover,
as cigarettes rained from decaying
porches with rusted wrought iron
awnings. A grey tattered sweat
filled shirt read 'you'll be old,
someday' and the skirts
were too short and covered
with glitter. I hid in a corner
on a rocking recliner, dressed
like Audrey Hepburn's stunt double
wishing my lip locks had meant
something other than 'we're alone,
and loveless.' Amazing Grace
rang loud from twenty out of tune
voices, the sound of a cruise ship
colliding with an iceberg in the Atlantic.
I thought about my mother
alone with a dog and a hot air balloon
puzzle, while her family was off pretending
to want to be where they were.
I thought about your grin and who
your midnight moment was with,
and I wondered if you wore the same
masquerade of happiness,
or if like me, you had already stopped
faking it.