L

#58

Marc writes and my heart breaks
I want to tell him that he can't just do that to people.

Don't bring these things up around me
I don't want to think about all the places
that weren't quite home

We were supposed to be writers
all of us had these mediocre lives
that we would escape so we could be born again
as people who suffer but suffer beautifully

But everything is easy
and even when my head is being pushed down
I can always lean a little lower
to pretend I'm not drowning
and enjoy the hands in my hair

I'm restless. There's a lump in my throat that I could will away
if I wanted it gone.