Eight Months

March and April,
we shared ages under stars and
wished for more.
my birthday came,
and we both changed our image.
it was around then
other things began to change too.
we were only friends, then, but
Spring quietly drifted away and
so did our initial fears.

May and June,
the summers began and so did our
confessions missed
because my Pokemon beat yours
then passed along in emails.
we put aside
at least two hours, every day,
just for each other.
the cicadas chirped but
neither of us heard them.

July and August,
Fall made its way in early for me
but we spent our fleeting moments
as well as we could.
new changes meant not as much time
but we held in anyway, donning uniforms
of patriotism and
paying our respects to the God
we no longer needed.
moments stolen while the parents were out were
definitely the sweetest.

September, October
one hundred themes,
and we got hooked on all of them.
I picked up my colored pencils,
while you headed straight for
the pen.
your poem about innocence
touched something in me.
(of course, it could have something to do
with my penname.)
it is your birthday now.
Do we change any more, or
do we hover in time
suspended with our smiles bright
and teenage mood-swings forgotten?
it is risky

Eight months over, two birthdays covered,
three image changes, and four new games tried.
the only thing left unaffected
is our love.

heh, sorry about the complications, Aki. it happens every time I write poetry. But I think you can figure out what I mean well enough.

Happy Birthday!

shh. watch out for the oompa loompas. i hear they're vicious.