I remember me that day, awkward on the bleachers, full of hope and fear and rage.
I remember you, crisp and fresh, shiny and new, the squeak of sneakers, And so set was the stage.
Act I
Lunches outside, laughing so hard that I peed almost every day.
Bleeding, writing letters, feeling something wicked come this way.
Mess of hormones, pheromones, microphones, actual angst ridden moans…
My oddness settled just as I had always feared,
I was swallowed by darkness, and you disappeared…
Act II
Nope, no college for you or me, we somehow got our anchors stuck,
Lots of cigarettes, coffee shops, and cliched not giving a fuck…
Graveyards in Georgetown and sips of bad whiskey in the Fall.
You breezed in and out, I hardly remember you at all…
Act III
Saturn return looming near, I was spinning, reckless, lost and found
And I saw you in the winter, felt my feet touch the ground.
Then came the Spring when the veil was so thin you could poke a hole,
But not thin enough to reach in and take back what they stole…
Brought together in pain, we were sure our ties were solid and true…
I didn’t know then all the damage you’d do…
Act IV
Well the years went by, you crushed me two times, left me on ledges.
But I unfolded myself, and smoothed out my own edges.
I always thought that your trauma outweighed my pain,
Yet I unlearned that lesson again and again and again…
The past year with you was like trying to jog through tar,
Turns out to Andromeda and back isn’t really that far.
Love, Leah R Chatterjee