Poetry
Losing You Riley Slechta
I watched you walk across the street, meeting a car with no lights on. You stood by the window and naivety held me in her arms. You stopped holding my hand, too busy lighting cigarettes, and trembling so violently, I wonder if I will ever feel them steady again. The third time you went to rehab, your mother’s eyes said it wouldn’t be enough. Despite the tremors, and scabs scarring your face, you were still mine.
MOUNTAIN’S TEARDROP Faustino Barroso photography
I wish my love was enough to save you, because when you told me you loved me, that we were meant to be together, I couldn’t tell you yes. I wanted to shake you and yell, “I can’t watch you die, not when you’re the one doing it.”
KIOSK2021
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