Your Second (day 17)

I’ve always been first. At everything.


At riding a bike,

at pretending,

at being the oldest

and then the youngest


At lifting my own feet

off the ground, at

smiling, at bleeding, at

touching you


At painting my face

out of my body, at

being nervous and

talkative, at



At standing tall as

the sky, then

so low to the ground


At touching the stars, at

breaking free from

now to dawn, at

reading the words

etched on her lips, at

telling you everything

through silence


At thinking falling is flying, at

searching for something

that doesn’t want

me to find it


but now I’m standing here

and I’m sure I’m your second

and I’d give it all up

just to be your first in line.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 8/19/16

Words etched on her lips

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