


I. i remember how you sat next to me
in the backseat of her car
as it sped down the highway.
we smoked
out of a sparkly pink bowl, watching our cares
disintegrate as we blew
them out the window.
i remember pretending
to look outside so I could watch the way
you collapsed into yourself
as you exhaled your last hit.II. i remember the way you reached for me
in your sleep that night, and
i whispered that i loved you
because i knew you couldn’t hear me.III. i remember the day i saw you
for the last time. i walked you to the bus stop,
waving goodbye long after you had disintegrated
into the horizon.
i sat by the side of the road and
cried because it was then that i realized
you take the happiness you bring me
with you when
you leave.IV. today, i forgot how long the
drive down
that highway becomes without the
anticipation of seeing you
to keep me company.
All my mind is what if’s and self accusation,
but I know our limbs didn’t fit together quite right.
I know we both were in our heads far more than
we were in each other’s arms, and that
even with you next to me, we were galaxies apart.
And like any other maze,
we knew there was only one way out.
Yet we ran through narrow corridors and high walls,
frantically searching for anything
but dead ends.