school is out.
the air smells like sunscreen
and grass clippings
and some version of freedom
i’m still learning how to hold.

i want to be the old me again.
the one who didn’t flinch
at every memory.
but i never quite live up
to who she was.

there’s no more
funny band classes with him,
no more hallway glances
that meant more than they said.
and that hurts more
than i want it to.

but it was the worst year
of my life.
and maybe,
just maybe,
leaving it behind
is something.
not everything.
not healing.
but something.