i.
your teeth chatter and the wind hits your face.
you can no longer feel your hands or legs.
something about frostbite floats around your mind.
and while your head is screaming, go home
your legs are screaming, left, right, left, right.

you remember walking this way from school.
when your sister would pick you up and walk with you.
or when your "best friend" would make you take the long way
so you could walk her home.

you remember trying to climb that tree
to impress a couple of kids
in hopes that you would become friends.
you remember falling
and the shrill laughter of "never never friends"

you remember sitting in that field
and writing poetry
about the dogs that passed.

you remember playing in that park
with a girl you thought
you'd be friends with forever.
you remember sitting on the swings
while your mom talked to other moms
about what it was like to be a mother.
you remember sliding down the slide,
playing in the sand,
and the reluctance to go home.

ii.
you find yourself in His neighborhood.
you still remember the exact way to His house.
how could you not?
you are still smoking.
you imagine the smoke hitting His face.
He would be shocked, if only He could see you now.
what He made you.

you stop by His house.
you remember the path across His house that would lead you to school if you followed it.
you remember the tree next to His house where He poked a wasp's nest.
you remember His backyard, how you would build forts and He would always win.
you remember His living room, blanket forts where you would tease you until you cried.
you remember His mother and her patronizing smile.

there are christmas lights.
you wonder which room is His.
you wonder if His house still looks the same.
you wonder if He remembers what He did to you.

how He touched you
even though you said no.
how He told you that you wanted it
even though you said you didn't.
how He told you that you needed him
even though you knew you didn't.

He is a ghost now, just like the rest of this neighborhood.
and you know if you stay long enough
the ghosts will take it as an open invitation
and come out to play.

iii.
you keep walking.
you put the cigarette out.
you think you're lost until you find a familiar looking building.
you walk towards it.
you realize it's the church across from your elementary school.

ah, elementary school.
remember how they broke you?
remember how they called you names?
remember how you tried to **** yourself?
remember all the friends you didn't have?

you can see the ghosts, now.
the school is filled.
your legs are moving towards it.
you remember the nightmares you had about this exact place last week.
you take pictures.
you try to catch a demon on film.

you have lost all control of your legs.

this is where you told ghost stories about the old lady that lived in the forest behind the school.
this is where you made a pact that you would be friends for life.
this is where that kid told that teacher he was death when he meant to say deaf.
this is where you sat under the playground and laughed so hard you peed.
this is where you showed them the scars on your wrist.
this is where they rolled their eyes and called you "attention seeking".
this is where she told you every lie they'd ever said about you.
this is where you sat when you told them you were going to **** yourself tonight.
this is where you bled and everyone saw.
this is where you broke.

this is where you became who you are today.

iv.
the anxiety is killing you.
you light another cigarette.
you hear voices and a bark.
you make a left.

down the road is the fence you kicked your show over in the second grade.
you wonder if you should thank them for returning your shoe or not.
you don't.

you walk towards her house.
the last time you were here was halloween in grade nine.
you were dressed as the mad hatter.
being chased by some guy dressed as michael myers.
trying to figure out who you really are.

she became someone completely different less than a year later.
she had been telling people she wished your best friend would **** herself.
she got into drugs.
she was always too good for you, anyways.

you want to knock on her door and ask how she's doing.
you wonder if she remembers you.
you don't.

v.
you walk past His best friend's house.
he has bright, shining lights, too.
christmas spirit.

you wonder if he still lives there or not.
you remember the way you went to daycare together.
the three of you.

you were never close with him.
he was into hockey and more attractive girls.
by the time He transferred out of your school, he had no reason to talk to you anymore.
he forgot all about you.

he started dating girls in grade one.
he started cursing in grade five.
he had kissed a girl by grade eight.
she thought she was in love with him.
he had no idea what love meant.

he still plays lacrosse with Him.
he talked to you about Him, sometimes.
he told you how He was doing, how much he hated Him.

at least the two of you had that to talk about.

vi.
you are almost home.
you check your phone.
four missed calls.
three unanswered texts.
where r u?
you turn off your phone and put your hands in your pockets.

you're walking down the same path you would during school.
you remember the way the boy you had a crush on would tease you as you walked home.
he lived on your street.
he would call you names.
you told yourself it was only because he liked you.
he didn't.

the two of you used to be best friends.
you played in the park together.
you had matching walkie talkies.
he came to all your birthday parties
and you went to all of his.

until you weren't cool enough.
and that was that.

you still see him sometimes.
you don't exchange a hello or even a smile.
you act like he doesn't exist.
he does the same for you.

you wonder if he feels as guilty as you do.

vii.
you are home, but you are not alone.
you've returned with your own ghost.
she is whispering in your ear how you have become
everything she would be ashamed of.

she wanted to be a veterinarian.
she wanted to be thin.
she wanted to be pretty.
she wanted to be smart.
she wanted a boyfriend.

you are unemployed.
you are overweight.
you are ugly.
you are dumb.
you have a girlfriend.

she is dead and you are the only one to blame.
because you killed her.

i can't say
i love you
(3 words, 8 letters)

but i can spell
luminescent
(1 word, 11 letters)

i can't say
i need you
(3 words, 8 letters)

but i can spell
concupiscent
(1 word, 12 letters)

i can't say
i want you
(3 words, 8 letters)

but i can spell
magnanimous
(1 word, 11 letters)

                                        i started entering spelling bees
                                                   when i was twelve
                                              eight simple letters
                                                      have never been *harder

this state is full of dead bodies.
where i once told you i loved you

this state is where you never felt anything for me.
(but maybe we can still be friends?)

this state is who i once was two years ago
when i held your hand and she took a picture of me kissing your cheek.

this state is where i broke up with my second girlfriend
because she was never going to be enough for me.

this state is where i laid in the bathtub late at night and wondered
what was enough for me.

this state is where i dug up my feelings for you
and waited all day to meet you.

this state is where i buried everything
and became something new entirely.

this state is where the lies began
and where they would end.

this state is where i fell in love again
but it was the same old love story.

this state is where you never loved me.
so i had to get out.

this state is where i started to think about forever
but forever lasted only a week.

this state is where you lied and said you loved me
but i'd never believe you.

this state is where old feelings resurfaced
and i hated myself again.

this state is where my heart lies
shattered pieces scattered between cities.

this state is where i broke
without enough resources to be repaired.

this state will never be enough for me
and i will never be enough for it.

it was more than a week ago
when he burned my hand
and i called you up drunk.

she pulled the phone from my hand
and told me i was making a mistake.
i told her i was calling my mom
and she gave it back to me.

we were on the bus
when i called her
and i smiled at him and i felt dizzy.
she took my phone from my hand
and talked to her.

you didn't pick up so i called again.
ring.
   ring.
     ring.

i whispered in her ear
careful and afraid,
( i n t o x i c a t e d )
"don't tell her what i told you earlier."
she turned to me with an eye roll and said,
"i would never."
he watched us.

hands shaking as i texted you
as steady as i possibly could.
it might have been the third time i told you i love you that month.
you told me to stop texting.

she handed the phone back to me and got off the bus.
i told him to come over here.
he said no.
i sighed and sat next to him.
she was giggling in my ear.

i felt sad.
so i started to smoke.
she took my phone away.
my voice was hoarse from all the cigarettes
and my hands were frozen.
inside, someone turned on all the lights.

i handed him the phone.
he asked if you were my sister.

she gave me back my phone.
i messaged you again.
you said you were bowling.
i said i didn't care.

i hung up the phone and asked him where he was going.
we were alone.
he said orleans, what about you?
i said st laurent.
i told him my sister lives there.

you wouldn't call.
your phone was broken.
it went straight to voicemail.
you said i was drunk.
i said i wasn't.
i said he burned my hands and i made lots of friends.
you said congratulations.

i got off the bus before him.

i said i love you.
you said, "you're drunk."

i said i was scared
and that i was alone.
no one would answer my calls.
i got off the bus at my sisters.
i listened to the strokes.
someone behind me called my name.
i played with the cigarette pack in my pocket.
it was my sister's boyfriend.
he lead me up to their apartment.
they gave me beer.
and ****.

you said i should be talking to her.
i said i'd rather be talking to you.

i met a drug dealer
and tried to roll a joint.
they told me to keep drinking so i did.
it wasn't enough.

you said you were done.
i asked you why but i think i already knew the answer.

"i want to wake up with a hangover."
"keep drinking."

you went to bed.
i told you i love you.
you didn't answer.

i woke up at one in the afternoon
and told her we needed to talk.
i wasn't hungover.
i went out to my friends house.
i played with the cigarettes in my pocket.

i got home and asked you out.
you said yes.

i felt
complete.

watching movies about serial killers again.
failing to see the difference between
what they did to their victims
and what you did to me.

maybe you never
pressed a knife against my neck
or tried to **** me
(so to speak)

but torture is torture
and there were blades against wrists
****** nights spent crying
wishing i was out of your realm
wishing your grip wasn't so right
wishing it was over
wishing i was dead

and maybe unlike a serial killer
you hadn't murdered me
but i sure as hell
wish you had