012.

here are your names and here is the list and here are the things i wrote about because of you: the half brick of cheese, poorly wrapped, the communist mice, the boys with red hair, the coconut milk, holes in our lungs, the skyscraper powder, Spain paper dolls, rice in various forms, corruption in the seventies, chlorine water,  the soap ducks, buses, the things i wrote that are now buried in the backyard and all the times you made an appearance as him. i wish i could apologize. i wish i could make it up to you. all the things that drag us down. all the things that make us hope. i wish i could give you my hands, just to see if you'd do anything interesting with them. i wish i could keep using you in poems, but you don't talk to me anymore. skyscrapers. i wish they would crumble into powder. i want the skyline that we see every day to split at the seams. and when the dust clears, and all we see is rubble, i'll know it can be something else. we can make this powder into another skyline, or it can be something else, something good. i hope so. i really hope so.  please come back.

please come back, it’ll be different, i promise.

the past.

the past.

(future)