Just kids,
i'm missing the taste of blood
in my mouth.

Skinny arms
draped over my shoulders
followed by loneliness.

Now,
with an unrecognized face,
I walk these halls with regret.
Knowing,
that forgetting
is not an option.

It's a shame,
not realizing what we have
until it's gone.
dried up worms decorate the side walk,
leaving the dirt,
nearly abandoned.

As machine work does,
I'm refueled each morning
with three pills,
replacing emotion
with steal.

you'll grow back,
as everything does
in the spring.
*******,
as we remembered that we no longer knew
how to love each other.

a cycle,
of becoming strangers.