behind bars

but that's the thing. you leave and you think it'll all be different when you come back... it's not.

there is still the grandma that wants half a plate of food, the child that paints circles on the table with sauce crusted fingers, the uncle that avoids his round of drinks by going to the bathroom just as mum finishes her jellybean. all there and all expecting you to sing when you bring out the overpriced, sprinkle-covered blackforest cake.

aunt wendy orders a skinny decaf soy latte because she thinks it's a real drink and the cold steel bars come up. a co-worker drops a bar of soap and you laugh 'cause it's all true. everything they said.

happy fucking birthday.