My Cardboard Balcony

Don't Forget by Belinda Roddie Don't forget that the night is still young, so let's paint our lives like crop circles in the grass, pretending that the vast, dark cosmos are waiting for us both to rise above the others and achieve a higher state of being. Don't act like what we have's not a work of art in progress. We'll debate our futures over coffees that are hot as stars. I'll wear a bowtie that will spin when the sun sets and sing when it rises. You'll wear a gown as white as Spanish wind across pearl sands. I know I will confess my sins to you, in hopes that you'll forgive me, before our brave sun ceases to live.

I tried to eat my candy bar, but it melted in my pocket. So I had to change my jeans or else everyone would've thought I missed the bathroom. So now I was wearing bright neon green shorts to class, with no way to nourish myself through physics class. So far, this day was shaping up to be anything but a perfect circle. I preferred to call it a deformed circle - all lumps, and still no real end in sight.