I thought about you a lot,
Those years apart.

What if I had
Opened up this blackened rib cage
And revealed a heart,
A little scarred,
A little beaten,
Would you treat it the same
As the whole, healed heart
You see on my sleeve now?

I think of sitting in the rain,
Alone on the curb of the street.
Rain was soaking through my sweatshirt,
Soaking through to chill my bones.
I think of getting home and being too tired to change out
Of my soaked through clothing, but doing it anyway.
Of ratty t-shirts and jean shorts,
Because the only warmth I wanted didn't exist.

I think of wrapping myself tightly in my blanket,
And softly sniffling until I sleep,
Fear of the nightmares
Of the blood
Of the fire
Of the guilt.

I think of when the house smelled faintly of the wood stove,
And dog fur.
And I could hear the laughter and quarrels of siblings, foster and genetic alike, below my room.

I think of screaming in the car
After some bad news,
Poorly singing (and sobbing) along to a song
I'll sing over and over and over until my voice goes out.

Think of rain
Think of snow
Think of winter and the ache in my bones
Think of how loss was all I knew
Before I knew you.

I think of the smell of burning newspaper
And I think of friends I don't talk to,
And I think of what I thought I knew
Before you.