I am sure I look 18 but I'm so different from 18

it is in the afternoon sun that I breathe a sigh that means I don't miss you anymore,
but it quivers, quakes when the night comes and one (1) of two (2) opened tabs is your words
secret and swallowing.
It is the movie Shiver, and how I almost tell the story fully to a coworker, our hands sunk in Dawn and tap water.

We bring our own beer. There is pizza and the comfort of smoking indoors yet it becomes not enough and we migrate to one (1) of two (2) bars. I've earned minimum wage and a bottle of wine for two hours time, yet then my boss will put my Blue Moon on his tab and the night roars on.

I'm thinking I'm glad it was 41 and sunny and I cannot miss you or be mad today, but I told someone surely of work out wednesday and said all good things.

I definitely feel beautiful again swinging my bare arms to a song by fifty cent; letting smoke curl under my lips; being the girl who brings, and gives and gives
and 'a rose is a rose is a rose' so a book made me cry again.
It's three in the morning and I have my own room and I'm
very lucky
for that.