He held my hand under pink lights while we listened to ice break and whales call to one another. I remember our socks. Both white, but pink with the lights. He was on the floor. I was on the couch above him. We were both on our backs, smiling stoney at the ceiling. His girlfriend coughed like a waiting mother in the bedroom.
He reached for my hand and I let him hold it.
I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.
I cannot help this. I cannot stop myself.
I held his hand.
My father would let me pet the baby raccoons before he went to the woods to chop them up. I knew.
I was thinking of him right before I saw him one day +++++
I saw it. Heart beats louder than any thought I could have had in my head at the moment. Seeing that girl stand up and walk out. Right in the middle of those railroad tracks, that beer bottle. Thinking of Josh and how much he didn't want anything serious. And trying to make myself a less-serious girl. One who only shares her feelings every other time and not every time.
Terrified on the 4th of july. Neck craned back. Still couldn't see the fireworks. His insides were dry and breaking up slowly. "Forget it, honey. It'll never happen. It's far too engraved."
oh honey, it's a lie!!!!
wandering around by myself dressed as pretty as i could, no camera, no flashlight, day or night, breeze or heat, alone walking, picking flowers, getting lost feeling in love with every piece and part of the forest. taking boys to the forest to show them how alive i was and waiting to see if it worked. sometimes it worked. others the boys pointed out the ghostly clouds. like dark riders, they'd say. and they told me they felt like something bad was going to happen and asked if we could go back into the abandoned log cabin i used to live in. feeling very sad in my parents room, noticing tiny mouse corpses in the closet, they shushed my love. and my pain.