Measuring Years

original picture by: Lee Stone

I was born in November, in Hawaii, and I’ve never really liked the beach.

Christmas is in December, which used to mean a two week break from school, but now it just means I feel bad because I can’t afford the presents I’d like to give.

My grandmother died this past January and I feel like crying when I see her image or hear her voice inside my head. I love you Nama.

I proposed on February 15th. The 16th is my brother’s birthday. The 17th is my mother’s birthday. This all makes Valentines day seem a little insignificant.

I only watched March of the Penguins because Joey said that “those penguins are gangsters.” He was right.

I took a girl named April to our senior prom.

My baby sister was born in May.

I moved away from home in June, when I was 19, onto my aunt’s patio, a block from the beach.

There are so many birthdays in July, my oldest sister, 3 of my cousins, and a friend that I met on my aunt’s patio 12 years ago.

My skin is so sensitive to the sun that I spend most of August inside, watching NFL preview shows and drafting fantasy football teams.

My girl and my dad were born about a week apart, on the 22nd and 28th of September, respectively.

October 11th is always the anniversary of losing one of my good friends. He died when the truck he was riding in spun off the road and down a 30 foot embankment, we were both 19.

I will be 32 next November, and I still don’t like the beach.

— Lee St1 —


About Lee Stone -leest1-

The world is changing: Stand for Something. Soporte Para Algo. Independent Poet/Artist. Portland, OR ·
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One Response to Measuring Years

  1. bhhapa says:

    I like this stream of consciousness. It’s how I think. Scattered.
    My birthday is February 15. I’m touched.
    My skin is super sensitive but it has nothing to do with why I wish there were more clouds in the sky everyday in LA.
    I like beach shores.

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