Write about
what you know:

Kindergarten.
The feeling of anticipation
that shot through your crayon-clutching fingers
as you waited for the teacher
who was pregnant,
huge, eclipsing the sun,
and already had two kids
(what did she need
Another one for?)
to dole out your
hard-earned graham crackers.

Fifth grade.
You didn’t know it yet,
that sometimes people weave promises
out of hollow air,
but even then,
when the boy
with green eyes lighter than yours
vowed to take you to the skate park,
you knew that was
where your
almost-maybe something
became still.

The trees.

An army of wooden bodies that stood ground
over the church across the street’s parking lot.
(Not your church:
you’re still not sure
if you ever really
belonged to a church)
Before they fell
to the will of greed & bulldozers,
the trees were your second home.
You’ll never forget
the one that fought against your invasion
by sacrificing a limb,
sending you both plummeting.
Sometimes you think
that you’re still falling
towards those protruding roots
that wait to catch you on the ground.

So write about that.

Write about being unable
to fit all of your belongings
into the appropriate amount of boxes
and realizing,
as you stood in your pink-painted room that once was bare,
then was not,
then was bare again,
that that feeling was what it feels like
for the world to lurch right past you.

Write about the boy, the other boy,
who carved his initials into your heart
before returning it
along with a request for a refund.
Do him justice:
he is not a villain,
he is still just a boy.
He gave you scars & stories,
and though he’s left,
you know he’s not completely gone;
send him on his way with your words.

Write about the night
you drove down the streets
with a new friend
you cannot imagine your life without,
and the gradual realization
that soon,
you will be gone as well,
and soon,
you will long
to be wrapped in the familiarity
of this town.
A new fear was born
underneath the muffled light of the moon,
one that you now know
well-
what if you cannot breathe
on the other side of this blue glass jar?

Write about what you know,
for what you know
wrote who you are.