February 1, 2015
This summer,
I got a lot of rides
From a boy named Matt.
By a lot of rides,
I mean that at 6:05
Every gosh dang morning,
I heard him coming down the street.
Yes,
I heard him.
He would blast ACDC
At 6:05.
And even with his windows SHUT,
I still heard Back in Black
Blaring blocks away.
He taught me a lot.
Like how 80s rock
Really is the best way to start off your morning,
That you can be good
(and I mean REALLY good)
At something,
Without getting a big head.
I learned how to (theoretically)
Drive in inclement weather,
that stop signs
Are only optional,
Speed limits
Are just guidelines,
And that if you drive in D1,
The car makes a really cool sound.
I learned that there are still people in this world
Who will get to know you,
Who will befriend you,
Without asking for anything but friendship in return.
I learned that there are teens
Who still obey their mothers’
Requests
Down to the last syllable.
I learned that he liked to build stuff.
And that during the school year,
He practically lived in the shop class,
That his teacher said he might as well
Bring a blanket
And a pillow.
I learned that he is insecure,
And that he gets bullied,
Not because he told me,
But from what I saw.
I learned that he is almost always
The bigger person,
And is still kind
To those who are so cruel
To him,
both in front of him,
And behind his back.
My faith in the future of Earth
Was restored this summer,
Because Matt taught me
That not all humans
Are monsters,
That there are still some
Kind souls left.
He may never hear this,
But I want to thank him,
Because his strength
Encouraged me
In ways that I can never fully say,
But he is one of the reasons
That February 1, 2015,
I am six months clean of self-harm today.