2013 was made of bus stops and ABC gum while you garnered a habit of chewing your lips in the corner of every room you entered sinking into the cushions as easily as if you were the stitching running your hands over the stitching in the cushions so many times over the course of a single conversation, that you could easily have become the stitching. 2013 was made of boys who left holes all over you when they pulled out each careful seam you restitching it every time and spitting oh well, your loss
new years resolution: stop allowing yourself to be turned into an object because you're afraid to be a person
2013 was made of barely fun nights of screaming sweaty 'cool' people packed into much more interesting rooms and you, happy to be with friends wondering who all these other angry people are and why you never end up surrounded by a crowd of happy people, who don't find any space taken that isn't consumed by them, to be offensive
you say cool like it's an insult today you say cool with a bitterness that can only come from a markedly uncool person someone who doesn't laugh at damaging jokes who makes space for others in conversations doesn't linger on the bottle of whiskey that is not theirs their unwillingness to share reminding you of greedy grubby fingered five year olds clinging to snack packaged oreos their eyes darting around as if someone might just notice their selfishness you see them, your tongue pinched between your teeth
new years resolution: share more, even with greedy people what is taken with bad intention can never be fully enjoyed you know that well bacchus could drink every ounce of wine in greece but without a reason to count his blessings, he is just drowning.
2013 made you into someone different than you used to be someone who thinks too much and is too harsh too much instead of too little, always too much who has learned how to stand but not yet how to bend to get the best result out of holding their ground who can be cool like their peers for maybe half an hour before feeling the pull of a tidy bud of green and a pen and paper, an archive of sounds and thoughts that don't talk back. you feel weak. and yet you feel so ******* strong
because 2013 has made you someone who runs to help the drunk *** tripping over the curb outside of your house at 4 am even though your mother is reprieving you in your head as you take his weathered hand, sleeve soaked with beer spilling onto the curb and pull him carefully to his feet, asking if he is hurt and despite your concern he regards your sunken female figure with discomfort as if regretting that he couldn't have fallen in front of a more ****, beautiful girl that is full of vitality and life and nurses poor sad men back to health
and as he is having a moment of realization, you have it too he is realizing that a man in shambles can only ever hope for a woman in shambles to understand no ****** mary will ever grace his worn soul only a faded chain smoking insomniac waif the world is not that magical this reminds you once more that not only are you not cool for caring about others, but you are not welcome because you yourself are a social ***** and that's not the love they were looking for when they asked for it but you will give it anyways
new years resolution: even when they burn you and cut you even when they hurt you and steal you even when they bag you up in pieces and sell your respect in jokes you still have it and just like the bitterness it will never stop bleeding and beating and you can handle it even if they can't
you are strong in a messy way a way that stinks and sops past memories out of every pore when you are courageous and if that is considered an uncool way to be then that's the coolest thing you've ever done so don't give out on me now