I remember red walls,
Kansas and Arkansas,
my father’s voice
with a southern drawl
as he told me
he was moving on.

I remember
kicking autumn leaves
down empty streets,
back when
falling in love
came as easily
as breathing.
Another boy,
another state,
never knowing
I wouldn’t stay.

I count the years in
broken hearts and
old apartments,
break-ups
breakdowns
breaking promises
with myself.

They were all just
growing pains,
leaving stretch marks
of memories.
I trace them each
across my skin and
know I’d do it all
over again.