i forgot her name but she probably remembers mine; after all i was her only friend. indiana heat, if you could call it that, sweltering sun in the summer makes the corn grow she said. chugging milk in our underwear on the street corner, i bleed and she bleeds with me like it’s voluntary but i know that she’s just gushing ‘cause we share the same veins and nerves and she punched the clot right out of my gut; i twitch, she twitches harder, conjoined physically and emotionally. i try to

signal at her from across the room, catch her gaze, try to communicate telepathically, i squeeze my eyes shut and pinch my fourth-grade brown bermuda shorts to my pig thighs and she turns to meet my eyes. i catch a glimmer in her face and she moves her hands in such a way that i know she’s understood me, i know she knows that i know that she knows that i

i know im changing ‘cause i haven’t felt like this in a long time, it’s been years since i couldn’t speak but only days since i’ve been vulnerable and i
hate it but ill
deal with it ‘cause
i gotta share a room with my brother now and
dad says he needs me, so he needs me, and

          i believe in words and body language, i
          believe in believing, i believe in love, i
          believe in things you wouldn’t even guess,
          because i used to be able to fly. i could

jump up real high and hover, lean my body in the direction i wanted to move and go there, float however long i wanted to, i swear it, but no one ever believes me. maybe i don’t believe me completely either but id like to believe that i can believe enough for it to be true because

          if i could fly back then, then that means
          my time spent on the ceiling
          was voluntary,
          and not some product of
          helplessness, avoidance,
          things are just so unfair and
          you’re so ******* stupid with your
          stupid ******* smirk and your
          stupid ******* ******* stupid
          laugh that makes my chest hurt cause
          your shoulders shake when you giggle
          and i think it’s so ******* beautiful and
          it really is so ******* beautiful and
          terrifying and
my dad asked me when we moved if i wanted his old mattress and i felt my insides twist and i
said no thank you with a smile but i,

i wouldn’t touch that nasty ******* bed if you ******* paid me to do it