top of page

the life we lose and why we miss it  

 

 

the journal I still have from kindergarten 

 

I haven’t lost it yet 

 

some things I cannot forget

 

some things I think should be gone and

forgotten 

 

my six year old skin

 

how much I wanted to kiss him back then

 

when my parents would kiss 

 

and my dad would make dinner

 

when little girls ate without aim to be thinner

 

the ID I left in New York

 

last December 

 

the winter we spent in Virginia

 

the stranger who smiled 

 

when high schools 

 

didn’t allow

 

shootings

 

the keys and the keys and the keys and the keys

 

and the lock, honestly 

 

before February 14th, 2018

 

the way you would kiss me

 

how much you missed me

 

all of the dreams that I wished we would be

 

back when I had dreams 

 

17 

 

people 

 

I didn’t 

really 

meet

 

and now I know them infinitely. 

I know that building intimately- I know she’s dancing 

up

and

down the stairs ..    

 

wondering how many stairs it takes until her mother 

makes it there

 

to bring her home. 

 

 

she never makes it

 

she never gets older

 

 

 

age fourteen

 

is as old as we’ll know her

 

 

if ever there was a time when we didn’t praise

 

murder 

 

 

I miss kindergarten 

 

learning about colors

 

sucking at numbers

 

expecting I’ll live past 100

 

I miss just existing

 

before monthly bleeding

 

I miss you. 

    And I miss you.

          And I miss you.  

 

 

there. I said it.  

 

you are the reason 

 

I’m writing this 

 

you are every reason

 

to live on

 

to remember

 

to forget

 

to murder murderers and protect children. 

 

you are every lost piece of me

 

the keys and the ID, and 

 

the lock, honestly

 

you’re exactly why I miss it

how I lost it

 

where I’ll run to find it 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I look for you in all lost things. I hear you in my earrings- one in my bed, one that I.. 

 

left somewhere-

 

sometimes I think I could never miss anything

the way that I miss you.

 

I remember what I’ve lost, what I’ll lose- 

 

it doesn’t end.  the losing 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(I have to get better at forgetting)

bottom of page