He’s got you stuck in his teeth.

Remember, summer?

          Well, tell me:

Why’d you leave him and I alone in the blue tiled bathroom?

Remember, summer?

The one with the blood stained floors that we sat on for hours.

The sound of the train past midnight

And a clear sort of light seek my room and cheeks

Leaving the layers of darkness, moon, and house light stale and stark

As if the lighter colored sheaths of air in the dark are unbreathable

I like to stare at the Ikea light fixture in the living room,

letting the middle bulb sink into my shallow eyes.

I look until it starts to hurt, my ripped fingernails gripping

the worn suede of the couch as pupils get lost in

I miss running down the street with you at half past 3

When your dad dropped you off after softball practice on Sunday afternoons.

And there was never anything more than grass stains on white pants and empty soda cans that my mom told me to throw away two hours ago.

i never met her

but i always knew she was there

my dad talked about her so fondly

“we used to drive

for hours listening to old cassette tapes

singing along

not knowing where we were going

but not caring”

sometimes

I can’t remember

why pink ice cream

smells of lakes

and trips to grandma’s house

I have no memory

of cherry chocolate chunk ice cream melting

in my mouth

But sometimes

I lick my fingers

just to make sure

When we finally start talking to each other after the fall, huddling on the side of the island where the black-eyed humans can’t hear us, we all tell the same story. A day that started with the sun rising and waking up and going off to whatever it is we do during the day.

She whispers in my ear when hugging me

I want to stay here forever

I don’t want to go

I’m driftwood

I don’t ever stay for long

But I don’t have the strength to pull away

I am from hard worn leather beneath my feet.

Watching my second home from my favorite place,

4 feet above the ground.

From sounds of gymnastics filling my ears

to a layer of chalk and sweat that coats everything from my

Hey, I miss you

School started yesterday and

I really couldn’t stand

You not being there

They had a pasta bar in the cafeteria

The germs wouldn’t mesh well with your hypochondria,

But the butter noodles were okay

You were my

Spaghetti boyfriend

Blonde

Full of spaghetti

That’s all I really

Know about you

You were my

Only friend

Bright

Full of potential

It’s strange how I don’t

Remember you

The place many memories were made, where laughs echo throughout the woods. Splashes into the water below can still be heard and felt on a hot summer’s day. The rope that hangs, worn and weathered from young hands, gripping it tightly.

A cool breeze shuffled my hair, causing deep chestnut strands to tangle in my eye lashes. As my purse swung loosely at my hip, I slowly lifted my hand to shield my defenseless eyes against the brilliant sun. I exhaled deeply, letting the awe and amazement settle in the pit of my stomach.

Bumping the van, our holey road twists

onto the dark side of each mountain,

drawing us into night and the nervousness

of a stranger at the wheel in an unfamiliar place.

The stars are swallowed, the moon gone

Memories, oh memories those fine grains of sand

Escape between your fingers to the beating of the band

Murmuring in harmony upon a demure heart

Oh what a lovely pas de deux in which we find our part

Rows of fleeting smiles and a million bluebird skies

The wind and rain, two things I love most. They go hand in hand, the wind and rain. First, the wind blows through and tells the world to be quiet and listen; then the rain comes and washes away horrible things.

Since the first breath of life,

one adventure to the next,

I can only reflect back in fondness

to the scattered pieces of my heart.

The losses we experience

The victories we achieve…

They become intertwined

With the places we inhabit

As we go about our lives.

Meaning and memory tie us to these places

So that even when we leave somewhere,

When I think of Iowa,

I think of cattle,

I think of the rattle under the road,

driving by humble abodes.

I imagine cornfields,

I imagine barns,

driving by the farms,

I hear the rumble of tractors,

lightly sunkissed skin and bright grey blue eyes

sympathetic, funny, crazy

daughter of a caring, loving mom named Carmen

who loves…

making new memories

gaining more friends

and…

laughing so hard my stomach hurts

She is faded.

Worn out,

Worn down.

Time stole her crown.

The light tapping of rain, loud at first, but slowly becoming weaker and weaker, grabs me; takes hold. I open the squeaky front door and peek a single foot outside. The vivid green grass begs for me to be a companion while it slowly moves in the ever-slightest of winds. So I walk...