the next day the rumors had already stained the walls
            red as the shame on your freckled cheeks

everyone knew what you had done

the words passed around like morning coffee
            poured half-n-half with frothy nervous laughter
            snickers and side glances

"cassie kissed a girl with blue hair in the parking lot of glory days"

they must have been watching you
seen you in the moment you wanted to protect from them the most
             to bury deep inside your guilty heart

but you were their entertainment at glory days instead
            the perfect accompaniment
            for their 1am pancakes and gossip
emma glanced out the window
            and in the dim amber light of the parking lot she spotted you
                        and your girl with blue hair next to your car
            watched her take your shaking hand
                        caress your cheekbone
and they all laughed at their perfectly-timed sideshow
            laughed at the love you couldnt help but feel
shrieked shamelessly
            syrupy mouths full of pancake
            when you lifted her bowed head and kissed her gently
they were taking notes of every movement for school tomorrow

as i watched them break you apart
i hoped so badly that you didnt notice them there
            that you didnt see them pointing from the window
            that you didnt know they were selling pieces of you
            that you didnt hear them laughing
            that they would all forget

and if you knew i hope they couldnt take your pride away
            that you would always remember it as just
            you and your girl with blue hair
            in the parking lot of glory days

despite that the body of a poet is shaped like a question mark        

every poet has the answer to one question
            as if she were born with the words
                        already engraved into her forearms
                        crafted by an ineffable power
                                    – whether divinity or demon
                                    she does not know or particularly mind –

"why do you write?"

i guess
            my indecipherable forearms and
            the way that my fingers
                        then curl to match the curve of my spine
make me
            not a poet

just a fugitive
            running because it is the only thing i know how to do
            and because i wont survive the night if i dont
            
and yet
the further i go
and the more ive seen

the clearer it seems to me
            that everyone who writes
            is just running

i started going to therapy when i
felt my legs buckling
under the weight of my heart

when
i knew that
it had become so drenched and
dripping with guilt and longing that i
couldnt possibly carry it
anymore

even still
morning felt like
            sharp red stings
                        in the papery skin stretched over my
                        temples and eyelids
            and tasted like salt and secrets in a thick paste
                        on my lips and tongue

even still
day always left me with
            imprints of bathroom floor tiles
                        on my throbbing forehead
            stains from your raspberry laughter
                        in my ears
            and fresh wounds from your dagger eyes
                        penetrated deep into the concave surface of my sternum
                        i couldnt help it that my scars were in cursive
                        and read like poetry

even still
at night
            i cried because my head wouldnt forget
                        those dream-colored moments with you
            i cried because every day your eyes told me that you had
            i cried because your laughter tasted like you never knew
            i cried because my heart swelled heavier every day
                        and my arms
were getting tired

i stopped going to therapy when
in my white dress and
            t-bar high heels you said you liked that one time
i drove myself home
            after graduation

when
with a straight face and dry eyes
i knew id never see you again
and my heart
would never need
any more carrying