I'm against resolutions
and the promise of new years and
over-starting something you thought you had left underneath your best friends pillow when you were six years old and not allowed to watch the ball drop.
I'll think of you as the champagne tickles my throat
and the ball gives the illusion of exploding.
I make confetti out of colored paper
and remember the paper planes that never flew too far.
This music is terrible,
One speaker too many
and the stranger next to me can't even remember the words.
I miss the days we slept through midnight
and the rocking
The tap tap tap
of a brand new year on your shoulder.
and no resolutions.