you taught me
that it was ok to be
bad
in second
grade
that I
could swear
on
the playground
and
Mrs Kelly
wouldn't
catch
us.
As long
as we
weren't
within
earshot
We hung around
by the
tree
and that was where
I got my acceptance
by saying all the
cuss words
I knew.
I didn't
want to
be bad
like
you.
You and
your friends
didn't care
when I
came up
to you
crying
that I
didn't
want
to be
bad
like
you
You let
it go.
We talked
once in a
while.
In fourth
grade
I asked
what
your first
word was
as a baby.
You said
it was a
swear word.
The f-word
b- word
or something
I started
swearing
in junior high
I'm going
into my junior
year now.
You are too.
I got over you
years ago.
But I still
wonder how
you're doing.
I remember you
and
him.
Used to hang out.
Sometimes I guess.
I don't quite remember.
But you were from the same
crowd.
But he
was...
I dunno.
I didn't like him then.
But freshmen year.
Something changed.
I don't know why you
need
to know.
But
I guess I need
someone
to spill
my heart to.
You're my agony
aunt.
I guess.
But you don't have to respond.