"You're a disaster", he said. I know, I know, I know. Because I never know where I'm going. Because roads are still new territory Even though I've lived here for years. Because I sneeze in evens and cough in odds. Because my socks never match And you still react like you're not used to it. Because I catch pitter-patter on my tongue in spring. Because singing in the shower counts as talent Although my snaps are missing rhythm. Because I wrap my guilt thick like a December sweater. Because I regret nothing and everything A moldy breaded soup sandwich. "You're a disaster", he said. "But I'll always want to clean up your messes"