gröbers
by maya
the documentation of my last day.
playing pool until a quarter past 3 in the morning, 2 bottles of coke
because i don't drink.
you started crying as he said something he didn't thoroughly mean,
having never tried.
5 bottles of beer.
one boy, two girls.
2 bikes.
i rode on your brother's back, high again on youth's hastiness.
on the train you were drunk,
attacking me with hurtful judgements.
i cried.
lashing out, us both hugging.
i tried to make you understand,
that it doesn't matter that you didn't.
"Morgen", the train conductor interrupting the space left by missing passengers,
two whole rows of empty seats.
the bike ride home,
dawn was approaching.
i made way to the prairies just opposite off your house,
your seemingly perfect home.
but no, you confessed;
sequencing confessions.
5 years of knowing you can seem like forever,
and never.
playing pool until a quarter past 3 in the morning, 2 bottles of coke
because i don't drink.
you started crying as he said something he didn't thoroughly mean,
having never tried.
5 bottles of beer.
one boy, two girls.
2 bikes.
i rode on your brother's back, high again on youth's hastiness.
on the train you were drunk,
attacking me with hurtful judgements.
i cried.
lashing out, us both hugging.
i tried to make you understand,
that it doesn't matter that you didn't.
"Morgen", the train conductor interrupting the space left by missing passengers,
two whole rows of empty seats.
the bike ride home,
dawn was approaching.
i made way to the prairies just opposite off your house,
your seemingly perfect home.
but no, you confessed;
sequencing confessions.
5 years of knowing you can seem like forever,
and never.
