there was a film i watched like it knew me.
not the story, exactly- but the way it looked
to want more than you had.
everyone was loud and golden.
even their sadness looked good in the light.
someone sang in a moving bus, and no one felt lonely for the length of a chorus.
i watched that scene too many times.
paused it, replayed it, tried to imagine what it would feel like to be a part of something that didn't ask me
to vanish first.
i kept thinking maybe there's a version of me that gets the kind of life you don't have to recover from.
the kind where people write your name on the back of notebooks.
the kind where you dance without watching.
she said, "one day, you'll be cool."
and for some reason, i believed her.
maybe i still do.
YOU ARE READING
I WAS THERE, I THINK
Poetry─── if you're afraid to write it, that's a good sign. i suppose you know you're writing the truth when you're terrified. ( poems, rhymes, truths )
