Is everything gonna be okay when it happens?
How should I know?
Pressing the nails of coffins into the pads of our finger tips
Measuring the weight of a 36 pound stage light just to double check
That we were going to be able to handle it when we'd have to handle it
There is a memory of mine…
That I know isn't real - I think- but I recall it so vividly
that I see it on my eyelids when - I think - of it
I see Legos and GI Joes and boxes, lots of boxes.
There are a mountain of Christmas cards and your curly hair is cut short
I smell a mix of ginger snaps and hot glue and can even feel the ting of burning on the sides of
my fingers if I really hold my breath and concentrate.
We were so happy back then we don't remember it anymore.
If it happened at all
Grease paint and oranges and a soundtrack of scary noises we played over a muted movie
Another memory that should exist but doesn’t
Snow and the taste of blood and plastic and a stream of I'm Sorry's
Sand and an outdoor shower where we sang about the moon
Burn marks on the bottoms of my converse
A half made igloo
Bad cereal
Falls
The feeling I would have you till I was ready to let go lingers on the pads of my finger tips
I can't tell anymore.
No New Stories 
Leave a comment