february

the question of wether or not we loved each other 

hung like the golden autumn leaves as a backdrop to the deer carcasses on the side of the highway

illuminating doom

i miss you my friend

and I wish we still lived in wonder

i drive by your old house on the way to visit my parents

you don’t live there anymore

someones car is in the driveway

the horseshoe of Ferncroft

i used to drive there in the dark and park at the bend beneath the power lines

i think I’m still that person sometimes

hiding in the night

wishing things were different

will I ever grow up

and like who I am

seems like I’m always recovering

maybe that’s when I’m at my best

every time I drive by

i think of those power lines

how far do they go

if I could travel along them

could I ever get to a better place

where i‘m not trying so hard

i’m always trying

but I think I’m doing it wrong

my efforts falling short

i’d like to be the source that travels in those wires

blank but deafening

only I never seem to get to the right places

maybe you were right

i’ll never be okay

never quite happy enough to be happy

never sad enough either

it’s just that I think I’m living someone else’s life sometimes

and I don’t know what they want from me

all these street signs that raised me

Heard and Blossom

Washington and Clarke

i wonder if the wires will take me

 where I ride my bike around the same block

 where summers felt as long as winter actually is

 where angels watched from a kitchen window

i wonder if I walked into that pond at the end of your street

could I emerge, reborn

stripped of scar tissue and what I remember 

rise up a new person

someone who isn’t afraid to choose

none of these things will make me happy

if I walked back through that front door

climbed the two staircases up to the third floor attic

and flew out the window 

would I crash onto the pavement of those front steps 

between the lions carved from stone

or would I rise above the telephone wires and street lamps

and never feel fear to speak again

or maybe I would be a messy little girl and that would be okay this time 

e  v  e  r  y time I get what I want I feel empty

there is something missing 

i might find it written in the street signs

North and Main

Livingston

Shawsheen and Whipple

when new meant better

a real house where a real family would live

ghosts were supposed to stay behind

pictures up the hallway

devil sleeping on the couch

always unsure 

not quite right in this body

bones stiff

heart fluttering

small cage

chasing breath

getting taller

fears settling in their new positions 

cozy insecurities

discomfort painted the walls

i don’t want to be here

again

nobody on this earth knows me

myself included 

i see happier faces

always gloating, laughing

they see what I can’t

have what I never will

know the things I haven’t learned yet

figured it out

i’m listening

i’m waiting eagerly

desperately 

if I take steps forward

i might just fall out of that third floor window

and land in the pond at the end of your street

and if I follow the power lines 

i might just swim all the way out of here

and breathe for the first time new air

and it will fill my lungs until my chest expands into new depths

dimensions I never knew were there

and I’m smiling

i can smell it

acceptance

i remember it

peace

i hear it

laughter

i feel it

safety

i taste it

joy

i made it

i finally made it

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