i miss becca

and i'm not afraid to say it.

i als0 miss erin,
mo, laura, and on the worst days, tiffany.

i've yet to find my place
in the world
or even in my own skin
but at least with them
some days it felt like home.

most days now
i worry about what people think
what arvin sees
and whether he despises me for it.

i listened to the indigo girls this afternoon,
1200 curfews,
and the nostalgia strangled me,
eager as a dominatrix.

i miss sitting by the river
in her mom's silver bmw
watching the grass grow
desperate for each other:
voices, skin, and fingers
thrilled to connect.
i never knew
that clean laundry
could smell so good
until i held that girl.

it's true,
"i feel it like a sickness
how this love is killing me
but i'd walk into the fingers
of your fire willingly"
for just a touch of that warmth
to see some spark
even briefly flare
as it's cold here in my world
freezing inside my chest
and frigid in my bed, at best.