I never thought it was my fault Until everyone started telling me it wasn’t. I was a little girl with two left feet and a Right hand that shot up before everyone else’s In class. Now, I keep it in my lap, Tucked safely beneath my left. This is what you left. This is why on Christmas, I get an email, And you don’t get a response. This is why, when I talk to boys, I don’t see love until I know Where their hands go during a fight. I never thought I was damaged until I saw How the other girls lay their heads casually Down on warm chests, and I realize my neck does not bend that direction. This wasn’t an issue while I was strong, But time is too long, and there are no Body-sized indentions for me to lean against On the walls that I stand inside. I never thought you would be gone for seven whole years Until each day, you didn’t come back.