by Lindsey
There is simply no other way to say it.
It was the orange I held up to the sky.
It was leggings
And running shoes and sweatshirts and headbands.
And loose shirts.
The gym.
It was a wide smile, a warm laugh, and sitting stiller
Than a streetside lantern. and up…
Up, then up…
then down,
Rain and books and indie music.
Oregon, lentil soup, and solitude.
Tea.
Early mornings, late nights, and work
That never ended.
Excuses.
Giggles.
Tears in the dark.
Detachment, colder, distance, displacement, distrust, colder, disquiet.
Colder.
I didn’t know it could take four years to fall asleep.
Trees bursting with green, sunsets on the water, smiling through the pain.
Lies.
Laughter.
“I’m good, how are you?”
Tell me it was all just a dream
And I’ll sit up in bed, elbow piercing the pillow
Giving you every
Gory
Detail.
***
Lindsey is a Californian writer and Adjunct Professor. After receiving her undergraduate degree in Creative Writing from the University of California, Riverside, she went on to receive a graduate degree in Education. She was the 2021 recipient of the Maurya Simon Poetry Award, and her work has appeared in Your Impossible Voice, Route 7 Review, and the RCLS Literacy Services Anthology. She is forever chasing the freedom of the written word.
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