experiment three.

thursday.

it's my worst habit. 

not my parroting of things i find funny 

or of watching juno when my heart aches

or of pretending to text when i'm alone.

this one is both insignificant 

and monumental.

january 25, 2011-thursday.

damn.

tuesday.

it's second-nature

habitual.

the mystery as to why is never solved

but i'm guessing it's because i was born on a thursday.

the way the letters curve

the angle of the cross i add haphazardly;

it makes me feel like i've come home

like i belong in the middle of it all,

after the birth

and before the goodbye party.

fashionably late

in scratched out headers

and introspective smiles.