Ben

I miss innocent smoothies,

and bad 80s movies

I know I say that I don’t,

(but sometimes I do)

I miss colorful socks

and late-night drunk-talks

with Alex.

I missed Alice...

When my sister was in it.

I don’t know who I am

(do you?)

‘Cause a brand identity

isn’t really me

And all that Reagan-era shit seems hollow

Not a film kid anymore and that’s hard to swallow.

All my socks have holes in them.

I should find someone new to talk to.

I should find some more time.

I should find a rhyme for this next line

(but I won’t)

should cut my hair but I don’t

want to see it grow back again

before I know how to answer when

someone asks - What is Ben?