Counterfeit

It’s been almost two years
but it seems like last month
although I don’t remember
that expensive week of partying
I knew you were all there.
Perhaps not afraid, as I was,
about what the world would
make of me.

It’s been quite a while
since Greg broke my leg,
JJ had optimism about parking,
Alison’s dad bought us drinks,
Billy borrowed the maroon shitbox
to take to the Gap,
that random guy started up his
tow truck and fixed Cesca’s car
at 3 in the morning,
Beth used the couch inappropriately
and likewise Fal in addition to the
floor, wall, poster, and garbage can.
But that was my fault
‘cause I locked the door.

Too many times
I’ve chosen to be passive
and not dwell, for once,
on what we all were,
what we once had,
and the naïve egotism
that ran through our veins
not knowing what would
happen after we crossed
that counterfeit stage.

But there you are
and here I am—
What to make of it
I’m not sure.
The least I can do is make
sure you all know
that I think about
every wasted morning
became afternoon slept-in
and thought maybe
I should’ve been awake,
slowed down and enjoyed
the life everyone else
was living.