Haley. 3

She sat on the wooden bench

Her rain boots dangling

Water dripping

She looked at me for an explanation

So much grief

devastation in a pink rain coat

“Do you want to play with me, Haley?”

I felt smaller than her

Patronizing and empty

I hope she didn’t feel that too

“No” she said.

Her eyes pooled and I drowned

Looking at her for a feeling I could discuss

We are both gasping for air.

Her mom comes

Looking better than I expected

But I’ve never been on a first name basis with it

The closest I’ve been is pink ribbons and commercials

I ask her how she’s feeling

Afraid to pry

Afraid to seem careless

They walk out of the classroom

And I stay on the bench with that little girl

Longer than I mean to.

Gypsophilia

I keep my eyes closed when I think about you.

So maybe I’ll wake up and the reason my heart beats this fast will be because of a dream.

Because you’ve chased me with a knife made of stories I’ve told you.

And you know it’ll cut me

Deep.

Cause you still haunt me.

So you chase me until we’re exhausted

and I try to reason with you

I shield the wrong part of myself

I’ve fallen in the garden we’ve made together in spring

Nothing has grown in months

Except for these white flowers that brides hold.

But I wake up

And it still hurts.

I shouldn’t have given you that knife