elliott smith plays in the background,
and all my feelings of puberty and insecurity
come rushing from some forgotten, hidden, secret place i hoped would never resurface again,
but here we are, again,
shoplifting cheap cuts of steak and lipstick
to make it seem like we have a plan
i hope to one day forget,
but what i hope to forget,
well,
that i’m just not sure of yet,
but when i figure it out,
and i’m certain that day will come,
then i’ll be free of the burden of memory,
i sure hope it’s enlightening
once i get my footing,
then maybe this won’t sound so awkward,
though maybe that’s just wishful thinking,
and my uncertainty will always be the most
certain quality about myself
Fred Aiken Writing 