A multitude of firsts.
Some he takes,
others I give freely.

My biggest fear in life is being alone.
Having my parents and my brother pass before I do,
leaving me to face the great unknown,
all by myself.

It happened to my father.

Inevitably, there will come a point where one voice fades,
then another,
until only a single one remains.
More space on the couch and
less food in the fridge.
I should like to go first,
though somehow it is a selfish wish.
That I might never know such a great loss,
and instead be it.

Going last means I shall spare them from the pain of losing me.
In return, I carry the pain of losing all of them.
I do not wish to be alone and yet I do not wish
to leave someone else alone.

And so I linger in this thought,
Caught between two unbearable choices.

I got on the bus alone today
and almost no one else was on it.

As it neared our campus the setting sun
hit the window so right, sending a golden corona
across the dusty seats,
bathing us all in this brilliant golden light.
Brown eyes turned to honey, blue ones to oceans—
a handful of minor gods and goddesses
on their way to class,
in sweatpants and backpacks.
It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.

None of us wanted to pull the cord to stop,
but finally, someone did,
and I had to get off.
I feel alive on the bus, I feel alone at midnight.
I am the princess of the bus.

I make my boyfriend Aiden worse without intending to.
I make a lot of things worse without intending to.
I think that if I just spent a lifetime on the bus,
circling round and round at around 6:30 p.m.
I would cause a lot less harm on this planet.
But someone always pulls the cord, even if I don’t.

Aidan won’t pull the cord and neither will I.
We might be riding this bus for a long time yet.