018751 this was the lunch code I was given
My first day of third grade
My teacher wrote on my hand
With a green marker that smelled like berries
018751 this was the passcode for my first email
That my best friend made for me
Because that was the only set of numbers I could remember
For even though it was no longer written on my hand
It was still written in my brain
Etched
Each number
0
1
8
7
5
1
i still search for you in the places i go
hoping to see you; a familiar face once again.
today i walked through the halls expecting to meet you, where you forever stood— but the man i saw wasn’t you;
my final fate– here i stand as the anticipation builds.
all i ever spent my life waiting for
stands still here– emotionless
There’s a dog that sits on the end of my street—
he barks at anyone that nears,
snarling teeth that glow shiny in the afternoon light.
There’s a dog that sits on the end of my street—
Comments
I still use a variation of my high school ID card number as a password to this day (I'm 31)! Interesting to think about the ways in which we develop attachments and add meaning to such inconsequential things sometimes.
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