The day you broke
I knew.
I was asleep in a bunkbed
in a campground that was all too
silent.

I woke to a thump I had heard
on the roof
and I thought
maybe it's ghosts
maybe it was hers.

That camp was meant to cure
my selfishness,
I had lost my freckles
my lungs
my calluses
it was meant to find the forest
as a new health because
I couldn't keep my shoulders back
far enough to help myself

It reminded
me of your slouched posture and
crying together
on piano benches

The day after Jess died
I hated her as much as you did.

I found out through a facebook post
and climbed the nearest
mountain.
stumbled over rotten logs,
ripped my pants
trying to get a cell phone signal.
you didn't answer.

I cried for an hour
because I was 300 miles away
and I knew you were too.

I am sorry that I ever
let my mind wander into the
darkness that hers fell to
because I know that
that could have been me
3 months before
but you helped me not to.

When I was trapped
by darkness
you were my lighthouse.
Singing with you
is the best I ever feel.
The air that awakens my lungs
at the exact moment as yours,
gives me the clarity I
was searching for
in that campground
I hope you find it too.