seniors

What is this?

One, three, five conversations,

and I'm crying.

Grabbed by the neck and thrown

into Then

and you are me.

As I hold you and

my red eyes twin yours across a

tile floor and a

screeching symphony

He laughs at you

why did I not

see it before?

Or am I making it up?

it rattles my eardrums, my sick brain, turn it off, it scalds me

It's wrong,

all of it. I said I wanted you to leave,

no one was supposed to leave.

Bittersweet, sometimes,

just bitter right now.

Am I so broken

I weep over strangers?