i burnt all of my preadolescence poetry after the 7th grade
it can’t haunt me now
i mean the poetry can’t
my preadolescence still does

you left so quickly
that i must have missed that fact
that this feeling wasn’t mutual
i guess that when it comes down to it
no one wants to be abandoned
and i thought i was past that
like no one can abandon you
if you leave first
but you didn’t even give me the chance

wall was my first metaphor
in a room that lacked any expression of creativity
this doctor had the explanation
why i am this way
of course i didn’t let him in
that’s not what walls are for
i don’t think i was missing much

i miss a lot, though
even now
although now i have metaphors
a way for me to feel like i have a connection with someone

i couldn’t sleep on the bottom bunk
being inches from the ceiling can make the sky seem like it’s below you
but you don’t have to peak at the sky to make sure there’s nothing there
the sky is something far away and empty and i had to be sure that under my bed everything felt far away and empty
i would peak every now and then
for something that seemed to be coming for me
what self-importance we perceive

you know that moment when she tells you to leave
and you’re happy that she did
well, that was me
15 years old and free to do whatever the fuck i wanted

i didn’t mind sleeping outside
in california during the summer you want to sleep outside everynight

it was like i had been preparing for this
standing outside of the liquor store finding that guy that will buy you alcohol
stealing cigarettes
and pretending you’re an adult now
free to do what ever the fuck you want

until that day the cops catch up with you
you who have been reported a run away
which is bullshit because she told you to leave
and you were happy that she did

when someone isn’t in your life anymore
you will inevitably see something
and you will want to show it to them
and they won’t be there
because they choose not to be there anymore
it’ll bug you too
for days
like being unable to remember the lyrics to a song you know well
except that you did remember them
just not in time

at some point
i decided that trust was the building block of any healthy relationship
but not before i had seen its splintered remains
on my door step
no, literally
it was the door of my bedroom
the axe marks on the frame carved something as unfamiliar as home should be familiar
this was no longer my home
and neither of us could be trusted

as a matter circumstance we met
and i found your openness inviting
your complete lack of defense
and your hair, i had never had a redhead

the way you made eye contact with me, like no other human would
you were lonely
and I found your innocence too inviting to resist

so when we met again, under a familiar roof, and my chance came
i had to have you
it was something like love, if love looked like hunger
and for me it always does

i remember the way you listened to me so intently that night as i was clutching you
i slept so soundly
that night

i remember when we finally got one
it was the christmas of 1988
the past two years had dragged on for what seemed like an eternity
but now
now i would no longer have to pretend to be friends with all of the other kids with hope that i would get to come over and play
play all the titles that kids at school would talk about
that kids at school would talk about
amassing tribal knowledge of secret codes and strategies
foreign to me no longer

it was a brief period of happiness
the one time that our familly felt like a familly
my mother arms swinging to the right as she jumped over pitfalls
my stepfather taking weekly trips to the video rental store to tryout a new game

in the end it wasn’t enough to keep us together
but for a while
we were happy

smiling with my entire body
everything else goes out of focus
there is only us
here
in this moment

so many days lost in a blur
spent on sweat-soaked sheets
god how i relished when we were too weak to even make it to the shower and change the sheets
panting
slowness of breath returning eventually
we would cease to lie there
seek the coolness of the deck
in the relaxation of cigarette smoke
and that was love
i guess