simplearithmatic

Younger Me, still fending off nightmares with plastic swords and MONSTER-B-GONE lights.   I was rarely gentle with you. I blistered our hands with blacktop; I choked our sandals with mulch. Yet you remained untouched by life's failures and faults, only marred on the skin by two frolic-scars. There are seven chin stitches from a monkey bar mishap, and three on your upper lip from disgruntled floor tiles. But that never halted your gap-toothed grins. I fought by your side during alien invasions, where broccoli trees swayed beneath the 1% lowfat Milky Way. We cradled dirt-stained snowmen that lasted weeks in the f