5. Whatever you wear–boots and shorts, blue pants with a green shirt and a yellow shoes, a sweatshirt that hangs past your knees, a helmet and cape–rock it with confidence. (AKA: Swag)
Promise me one thing: that you will treasure this year. That when you feel the laces of the ball, that you will remember how they feel against your skin, the grit of the packed dirt, the worn edge of the seam.
“Wait, how old are you?”
“If my girl ever cheat on me, Ima just loosen all the bolts on her tires. Let’s see if you cheat death.”
It was you that taught me to love again. You, that gave me comfort within your walls. You that gave me both a place and a person to call home.
Little things do really matter.
The ingesting of strange substances. Such as crayons, chalk, boogers, Elmer’s glue, or others.
I love the stillness of the ground, the quiet after a dusting, the way the world seems holy, untouched.
You are more than a face in the mirror, you know. You are more than a body walking the halls of a high school, more than the catty girls and more than the eyeing boys.
It smells like poop. Frequently.