I took your sticky hand
Both of us uncomfortable in long checkered jumpsuits
and button down polos.

That Thanksgiving we made pilgrim hats and pasta string necklaces
We  walked to the park through the little white gate
that seemed so tall we could barely reach but now it squeaks and the bells broke.
The path through the sour grass flowers is overgrown with cancerous weeds
the trees are too small to climb, and the big one with roots is populated
by empty teenagers making out and carving their names in our place.  
This is where the bodies are buried. Where we said goodbye.
Where we played, our little world
of imagination filled lazy times streamed with
sudzy bubbles: Popped.

I’m sorry I failed you Jack. That she failed you.
For giving up too soon. I know you
wish she held on longer, that she fought
for you and I. You moved away because she left you
And I left you and so you left me, alone.
You lost so much, but you got out, peeled your eyes
from the flickering screen. Flashbacks of
our shared childhood ripped away.