(I)

They called us
unremarkable

but I knew you would always
find me

a voice that pushed
through the darkness

with a thunderous roar
if I needed it

or in a whisper lighter
than air

(II)

They said that the sharing of graves
was archaic

like a hand still clasping  
a pocket watch

but we had our names down
for a plot

regardless

(III)

We'd been writing epitaphs with pencils
until they let us use pens

on plastic chairs that creaked
with the slightest touch

hands hidden inside black sweaters
legs like shaking magnets

desperately defying

science

(IV)

In this child's theater
we sat watching

attendance assemblies
and merits

being handed out by shapes
we'll forget when we're

twenty

(V)

Now we're older we get Shakespeare
and musicals

the noise is louder now
and easier to crawl under

we pretend to understand
the complexities of the words

to take meaning from
soliloquies  

that feelings are more
than just a hand on a heart

(VI)

Instead we rise
from our seats

red plush velvet that
smells of forgotten stories

believing more than ever
in that childish love

from years ago