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Stefan Gaspar May 2020
Strawberry patterns on the bottom of my feet
What trail do I leave behind
Walking amongst the headstones?

Have my hands always looked
this way?
Have I always had this much
hair?
Is this how time represents
itself?
The aging of a body?
The differences between two colors?

Leaves never forget how to
fall,
And neither do I
So I’ll stay still for a while
Death finds us all
Why not greet it with a
smile
Stefan Gaspar Apr 2020
I am the doldrums.
I am the grogginess in the early morning hours.
I am the long drive back home after you realize,
halfway to your destination,
you forgot your belt,
but you can’t use your shoelace in place of your belt
because you are wearing ******* loafers.
I am the frustration of man.
I am everything I do not want to be but cannot change.
Stefan Gaspar Apr 2020
We are not friends
No, we are not
I’ve never had a real friend before,
But I know this is not friendship

You leave me in places one should not be left alone in
You tell me things one should never be told
You fill your glass up while mine has been empty for hours
You don’t even know my middle name

It’s William, by the way,
Not that it really matters anymore
Would you even recognize my face in a crowded room?
I think about yours at night before I fall asleep

I’m not growing,
And you’re not listening
You let my leaves die
While you prune everyone else’s

We are not friends
No, we are not
But you don’t care
You have friends to spare

— The End —