Sharp

I am far too young to have seen your blood sucked up, flowing like velvet ribbons as it diluted itself into the water. I keep making that excuse for myself, like it is going to help me be anything but a helpless little kid. A helpless little kid without textbooks or a ride to class. I might be sitting against the wall in a grocery store with my phone plugged into the wall, but more than that I'm obsessed, and unable to look away, or less frightened when we talk about the past.

This is how I remember you best.

You're escaping to somewhere darker, and colder. You're sitting with your back turned to me. You're staring into Autumn. You're in the Delaware River Gap. You're in the North. You are the North.