and then i couldn't catch my breath because of the fear.i have to tell him today but he's busy being normal. i can't look.
remember when we were in Florida and you told me to get the fuck out of your house? you threw down the remote and pointed to the front door. i cried and called the bookstore, told them i couldn't take the job after all.
remember that night in California? when you were sitting in the passenger seat and i was standing beside its open door? you slapped me and threw me to the ground. told me to never fucking talk to you again.
this was before 3 more years had passed and you wrote that letter. before there was one more person who would die on the inside.
i don't have a list this time because that would make this impersonal. i'm taking deep breaths so i don't cry.
and where are you?