that really happened? i didn't make it up?

i remember little things like

how i cried on thanksgiving

(in the shower),

how i cried on christmas

(in bed),

how i missed crying on new year's

(i was with friends),

and how i cried on valentine's day

(at my desk).

they come back to me softly

little oh's and ah's

like fireworks for a dead crowd.

"that really happened, huh," i say

to me, myself, and i

us clinking glasses

and laughing over everything 

so the words don't slide down our throats

out like a lion, in like a cub

here's to a midsummer new year

and wasted winter time