girlhood

We are sitting on your bed naming our bridesmaids.

I’m ringing your doorbell for the third time this week. Should we walk the dog?

I love to talk about nothing with you as the sky burns tangerine.

We are dangling out of the car roof singing.

We are taking 100 pictures of us jumping at once.

I’m doing your makeup in the bathroom.

The garage light activates as we run out from someone’s backyard playing manhunt.

One earbud for me, one for you.

We fall asleep on each other on the bus and someone takes pictures of us with our mouths slacked open.

My mom makes small talk with yours. I don’t want to go home.

I didn’t expect it to end, and that probably made it all worse.

I still seize up on the LIE and I wonder how I can still feel so much loss.

Sometimes I’m 19 again and I can’t escape the feeling that everything good is over.

Life goes on—and it can be beautiful—but I don’t think I’ll ever stop wondering why.