you started out big, i think. i think you started out with big lungs and a big heart and giant thoughts, i don’t think you were like everyone else

i wasn’t there for the rest of it. i was in
los angeles, i was
playing soccer with the cousins in white dresses in grassy backyards. the sky was plummy, my shoes were wet, i remember it like an uncut gem mined from my mossy mossy memory

but imagination only goes so far. it doesn’t cover things like lost keys or atlanta, you know.
i’m good at lies, but that’s inherent. we’re fluent in
self-hate, i think,
we’re liquidy like the wavy falling sky.

sometimes my mind’s blown, i feel like an eight-year-old watching aliens land again & i feel my hands start to shake
i suppose it was the same way for you. i guess u have the same little memories, the goopy mac and cheese from elementary school, the neighbor’s cats’ names, sore arms, bad bruises