remember I told you
It wasn’t until
you kissed me
I began not to care
Or how winter was
the death of me
I wanted lush meadows
filled with giggles
tripping over drunken feet.
Remember I told you
I was only sleeping
to kill time?
but your bed was the best
time killer-
while we argued over music
and expectations
neither of us would meet.
I remember you told me
our names would be carved
in wooden bridges-
only if we suffered detour-
and I wasn’t sure
what you meant
when you said detour-
I only understood your kiss-
I remember I ignored
your brief warning
to stay alert.
I stayed busy
wanting green meadows
childlike laughter tripping
over drunken feet-
Grass stains on white panties,
bruised knees,
toes curled in cold creeks,
hair frizzy and free-
fighting the urge to sleep-
always finding myself
worn out in your bed-
the safest place-
for my contorted body-
Grass stains on your linens
hair frizzy and free-
But quiet.
Quiet enough
to hear the exhaustion
in your xanax laughter
Quiet enough to scare me
towards a detour-
of frozen meadows
fat lip, skull cracking
teeth chipped-
grass stained dignity-
tripping over lost feet-
Your bed not there
to break this fall-
Only our screams
about expectations
left unfulfilled-
Remember I told you
The only way to live
was to play dead?
And I was sleeping
so my bruises could heal?
Remember I told you
those weren’t my meadows?
They were always yours?
Remember how quiet you were?
Do you remember
our xanax laughter
running through jungles
of near escapes?
How loud
we imagined it-
joyful accusations-
bloody stains
on our Sunday best
Do you remember
how soon after
we tripped over
clumsy speech
You took your hand
away from me-
and said
“Freedom isn’t fair.”
I now understand.
