lonely school nights

     avoiding sadness

backspacing the stupid parts

     of a text I'm about to send

my bedroom walls

     covered in those pencil drawings

my window

     glowing indigo from the 6:38pm light

lying in bed

     not sleeping

'…'

     you are typing

knowing what I want to say

     but never being able to

                         all the things that, to this day,

                         I think of when I think of you

     winter

a gentle snow

     the too-high, uneven bench

outside your grandma's house

     your head on my shoulder

the soft fabric of your hood

     the cold of your hands

your pale skin

     your olive nail polish

our fingers interlocked

     your feet swinging

but mine on the ground

     Christmas on its way

the sky white instead of blue

                         all the things that, to this day,

                         I think of when I think of you