Sitting by the vacant school parking lot

Full of broken chains that limply hang from swings

Awkward pre-pubescence feelings have me naught

But remembering old conversation and what it brings:

Emptiness, loneliness, an unkempt starvation for love,

And I’m left wondering was it all enough?

When we were kids,

Freely treading along the laced edges of adulthood,

And having large, gleeful smile rid,

He rid mine in a way I never thought anyone could

And I cannot wipe my memory of his fingers—

My body’s feels dank and cannot forget how he lingers

Prepubescent tears ran with him and fragments of a childhood

I remember the broken swings hanging from the red rusted bar

Once being so new and having as much fun as I possibly could

But I closed the door to childhood so they no longer ajar