Art by VH McKenzie | Website | Etsy Shop | Facebook | Tumblr | Instagram
Eidetic & Blind
You were So Cool with your red converse & knee socks
& that nail file you kept tucked into your
boot like a weapon. When we found straight sticks
we made them wands, at recess we were
witches, I could’ve kept playing
that game forever.
You told me sometimes I need to stop
following & let others come
to me, like self-confidence could be bought
with the four-fifty we made
selling lemonade on the sidewalk
outside your house.
We are digging through your junkyard attic
again, it is a summer that never happened.
We are digging through the Maybes that hang
in the air like heavy flies, like Maybe
if I look at my feet less the world
will be smaller, Maybe growing into
another person isn’t growing
up, Maybe I am the cicadas chirping your name
because I think if I understand you
I can understand the world.
How glad I am the world cannot fit
between the lines of this poem.
I remember finding cicada shells strewn
across your backyard and stink bugs on your bedroom
floor. I remember your quiet smile and thinking eyes, the foreign
taste of whole milk and strawberries with cream, but I don’t remember
your mother ever getting out of bed. I don’t think
I ever asked why.