Morgan's Birthday is in a Few Hours

so, in celebration, here is the poem i wrote her in ninth grade.

For My Friend Morgan, Who When We Were
five
or six hid with me in my treehouse
to escape a robot dressed up
as her sister
by my brother
in pillowcases
and laughed without making a sound.
Who when we were five
taught me how to really appreciate the glory that is Hanson
without ever hearing their music.
Who watched with me the same stupid movie every day
so we wouldn't upset the characters.
Who for four years
didn't see me once,
but managed to still love me when we were nine
or ten.

For my friend Morgan who when we were
nine or ten
read Tolkien with her dad because someone was making a movie
and showed me that a Beatle is not a bug or a car
but a god.
Who told me secrets, like
how she was really older, and
Who built dollhouses with shoeboxes
and made her own dolls for them
better than any doll or house in a store
and sweeter for the effort.
Who played with me at lunch
the same stupid games every day
because I loved them.

For my friend Morgan who when we were
fourteen and fifteen
stayed up until tomorrow
with caffeine and cookies and me
to talk into a computer mic over and over and over
so it would be perfect,
and who covered her room from floor to ceiling
with pictures
like the sun, and couples, and her friends,
and a lonely plum
because it helps her blend in
to be surrounded by beautiful things.
Who taught me that "hate" is a pretty strong word,
and that sometimes it's not a sin to change your mind
and that claiming two celebrities as my own isn't fair
and that All You Need Is Love.

For my friend Morgan who, now we are both fifteen,
bought me a yellow rose on my birthday
and slyly kidnapped me with a bomb
disguised as a cake.
Who listens to the same stupid complaints every day
even when I exaggerate
because Lord knows,
I love talking
and she loves me.