Words falling from my lips like a lie- I pick up each vowel and hand it to you. I ask you to make each letter mean something.

The train on the south side of route 82 screams every night. I hear the echos cascade across town. It grips the window panes and begs to crash through. I wish I had the power to let it. And I don’t think I’d be able to sleep without the noise- it gives me permission to rest. Lye in the thought of it rushing through my mind and I stay perfectly still.

Lately I’ve been thinking about summer. It used to mean so much to me. Watched us sink our hands into its rays as we soaked it up like the beer we spilled on grandmas carpet. It’s these sticky acts of truth or dare and when you push, I pull back. It’s all a balancing act, remember?

The clouds were screaming and drenching the pavement on a Friday night when you told me how you didn’t care anymore. We sat apart – girlhood coming to some sort of finality. Crumbling pieces from the ceilings felt like a freight train running through me. Watched the carpet drink the rainwater as the walls began disintegrating. Told me how you felt lonely and how no one could help you anymore. It cut through me over and over and over again, until my spirit was no more. We stood in the rain for hours. Let the world cleanse us from whatever we chose or didn’t do right. Nothing was right. You felt that way too, right? Puddled footprints in the foyer. Waterlogged fingertips. Rain drops falling from your eyelashes, I swore they were tears. You wouldn’t dare.

We walked in different directions after that summer, but always met in the middle when we were feeling scared and life got scarier because the world feeds fear- maybe we were too naive to recognize it back then. I guess you blame me for turning away- but I blame you too. It’s just how this goes. it’s how we were made. Later that night we sit at the kitchen table. You tell us all how important your friends are. How it was them all along and you’re the reason. How much you’ve missed me even though we are so different. How the sound of that train keeps you awake at night.

Looking back with emptiness- I say I don’t remember a thing- Words falling from my lips like a lie- I pick up each vowel and hand it to you. I ask you to make each word mean something because it’s your turn fucking try.