The Voice Issue 29: May/June 2017 - Page 60


writer of the month

Yes, I Messed Up … More Than Once

I miss the iced teas we shared on the beach,

While our toes were dipped in the water,

And we clung to our beach ball,

Acting like it would fly away,

Even though there wasn't any wind.

But sadly,

I let go of the beach ball,

Just as the wind picked up

And yes,

I spilt my tea into the water,

And then I fell in trying to save it,

Then I pulled you in with me by accident.

I miss the long, peaceful hikes

When we would find the longest sticks to climb up with,

And once we reached the top,

We would yell at the top of our lungs,

And throw them off the edge.

But last time,

I found your stick and handed it to you,

With plenty of ants on the end to bite you.

I also forgot to tell you where the mud was,

So you stepped in it and your boot got stuck.


We didn't make it to the top

To yell our lungs out and throw our sticks away.

I miss the carnival rides,

And the oddly flavored cotton candy we shared,

As we sat on the bench closest to the ferris wheel,

Waving to the people on the top,

And then going back to sit on the roof of the car,

Just to watch the sunset.


I'm sorry that I threw up on the last ride,

And that caused you to not want to share the cotton candy.

So we sat on opposite ends of the bench,

And you got the wet end,

So your butt got soaked,

And instead of watching the sunset on the car,

We got in it to go get you new pants.

I miss sitting on the edge of the hill,

Watching the stars as they pass,

And waving to the moon as it grew bigger, smaller,

And rubbing our feet in the fresh dew,

As we braided our hair and sang lullabies

But I'm sorry that I brought us out on a rainy night,

And I forgot the umbrella,

So we sat there soaked, trying to see the stars through the clouds,

Trying to seek out the moon, but it was just a sliver.

And I'm sorry that as we did that,

I fell asleep,

So you had to braid your own hair,

And sing your own lonely lullabies.

I know I've messed up,

I've messed up quite a lot.

But I'm sorry each time I do it,

And you need to know I'm not perfect,

But apparently you don't want to know this,

Because when I fell asleep that last night,

You got up and walked away after you were done braiding your hair,

After you sang the last note of your lullaby,

And I haven't seen you since.

- Anna Phelps