do you feel the way the heart shrivels up like a raisin when it hears certain names?

the imprint of past lovers?

and the imprint of past friends.

the places who left left the acidic taste on your tongue.

i feel not many know the pull of the heart strings.

kit’s wrong to think this.

could other people understand the snapping of the cello 8th grade year?

could i understand a face beaten brick wall?

of course.

and more inquiry?

where do the lonely go to pour out their sorrow?

where do the happy go to forget their yesterday?

i’d go to the gas station on the right past the church

i’d go to the motel off the highway.

threatening to run away isn’t a threat when you have been doing it since day one.

i am afraid that one day i won’t have anyone left to threaten my absence