under foot
in my room
by my side.
Still no word from X.
It’s like he’s fallen off the planet.
Guilt, maybe?
Anger?
Gavin reminds me how not-noble X is being
says he’ll always support me.
He is, after all
my go to
my Gavin.
Turns
Every brush turn
becomes my turn
U turn
Painting myself
180 degrees
away from the
me
stuffed like a cream puff
with jealousy
insecurity
obsessively
checking my phone
checking the clock
tick tock
turns out,
it’s just not
me.
Tides are turning toward
me
turns out what I thought
was burning love
just might not
be so hot
embers of our spark
blitzedburntblown
out of the park
turning heads with their
flim flam
flop
into the dark.
Relying
on another to
cover me,
X’s silence
smothers me
missing my mother
I discover
I’d rather be
turning away
turning a blind eye
turning my focus
to canvas
to college
to RISD
and back to me
a better me
a sister to Melanie
I can be
immediately.
Obviously,
the tables have turned.
A Sunny Sunday Morning
Like something out of a movie—
Jane makes pancakes
Dad reads the paper
Melanie sets the table
orange juicefresh cream butter
blueberry pancakesreal maple syrup.
Have aliens replaced my family?
My stomach growls
I sit.
Maybe we’re not so broken after all.
Melanie recites the alphabet
shovels up pancakes
drives them into her mouth.
Dad asks about my SAT studies.
I lie.
Unless the study guides start seeping in
while I sleep
I’m doomed to SAT failure.
I ask about the campaign.
Dad:Let’s get through today. One blow at a time.
How cryptic.
Jane sighs, excuses herself, runs from the table.
Is she crying?
Melanie chokes on a giant bite.
I pound her back
and she spits out the half-chewed mass.
Hello?
Nobody notices
I’ve casually saved my sister’s life over breakfast.
If only I could save myself that easily,
unchoke
undo
rewind
and replay
where summer went wrong.
Dad has to drive Jane to the doctor.
Miguel has to finish up the roster for the next rally.
Me:Why can’t she drive herself?
I ask with what I think
is a rather innocent tone.
Dad:Can’t you just help out?
He pushes his chair
storms off.
I didn’t mean to …
Maybe we are broken after all.
Our perfect
delicious
sun-drenched
something Sunday special
breakfast.
How Things Were with Mom
When I was Melanie’s age I used to
sit in Mom’s lap
suck my middle fingers.
Dad used to yell,
You’re too old for that.
You’ll wreck your teeth.
Big girls don’t act like babies.
All of which I ignored
sitting in Mom’s lap
My High Priestess, Mom
protected me from the
pressure to grow up,
act like a big girl,
worry over crooked teeth.
When I got older, I quit
sitting on Mom’s lap
being a baby
letting her protect me.
But I never got over wanting to be
near her
touch her
need her.
Her scent of
Cover Girl pressed powder
Chanel lipstick
switched to IV’s
hospital beds and vomit.
The yin and yang of my mom.
My down-to-Earthhigh-end tastes
High Priestess waysmom.
Oh, to be
near her
like her
with her.
Pondering Things at the Park
While Dad’s driving Jane to the doctor
I’m staring at my phone
contemplating calls
running around with Melanie
at the park.
Remembering creepy friends
fearing druggie strangers
wondering how they knew my name
at the park.
Never questioning
never doubting
never sensing a pattern
at the park.
X leaving me at
parties
music shows
his mother’s
returning with
excuses
duffle bags
strange people
Why do I let him lie?
If he
knows druggies
parties with druggies
leaves me for druggies
hangs out with druggies
visits druggies
he’s lying when he says he’s
not a druggie.
He’s a druggie
and I’m not going to be the fool.
Believe
Honestly,
I can’t believe
in us.
I was a fool
painted blue
instead of canvas colors
true
to the hues needed
for the scene.
Honestly,
it’s too far
where you are
I believed in you
not me,
too bad
now I see
I do
when I move on I
move away from you.
Honestly,
I feel okay
whole of me
I believe
in it all.
I’ve tried
Ted
dread
X’s bed
there’s nothing
I can’t be
at RISD.
Honestly,
I believe
in me
mine, I’m
glorious
vain glorious
high school victorious
away from notorious
I’m college ready.
Honestly,
I believe
in me.
When I Visit His Apartment, Pt. II
I walk in
shutting the door behind me.
The room reeks
of takeout and tennis shoes
half-drunk bottles of Pabst Blue Ribbon
bad manners and boorishness.
Piles of books make it look like
hoarders live here.
Paper plates decay into Jawbreaker albums
paint crumbles off the wall
the fern rots in the windowsill.
His roommates hang out,
wave Hi as I step over
the banjo case.
Where’s the banjo?
X leads me to his room navigating through
the wreckage saying
Nothing
like a tune from a
washed-up country ballad, the silence
At last, I’ve figured out
this song
this boy
the lies
even when he looks at me
in that way.
That way.
After we enter his room, he
sits on the bed
I stand next to his dresser
covered in coins and something sticky
we used to be giddy, gulping up
laissez-faire.
Me:I don’t want to do this anymore.
X:Why?
Me:I’m tired of the lies.
Our eyes pour into each other
I want to melt, but I can’t
see past
the dirty clothes
baggies of meth
and unmade bed
in his room.
This is it, I think,
and I don’t believe in anything anymore.
Tears of Change
X:It’s not what you think.
Me:I know about Jessica.
X:I love you, and—
Me:And what? AND Jessica?
X:It’s not like that.
Me:Then what’s it like?
He fumbles, nervous, quiet.
Only guilty people are nervous. Liars. Cheaters.
I will not be the Fool.
Every second ticking by
I just want to die.
X:I don’t love Jessica.
His long, beautiful fingers,
wrap around a towel.
The same hands that wrapped around
my face
first kiss
my waist
his embrace
stroking my hair
touching my shoulders.
X:I do it sometimes …
drugs …
but mostly I sell …
to people like … Jessica.
X breaks down.
Sobs into the towel while I try to stop the room
from spinning.
Says he’s sorry about the lies,
that he told them to save me,
protect me.
Confesses he
sells meth
dabbles in coke
pushes a pill or two
needs money
needs me
knows he’s weak
hates himself
less so
when he’s with me.
Didn’t want me to know because he thinks I’m
perfectbeautifulsmarttalented
nothing like him.
Hearing these things makes my
energyrageangerinsecurities
slide down his bathroom drain.
X:You and me, Sam. That’s all I ever wanted.
Me:I don’t care about the drugs.
my angermy standquickly losing steam
Me:I care about the lies.
His weakness deflates me,
corrodes my brain as we
hold each other and I see,
while the drugs scare me
it’s not nearly as much
as the distance they create,
the lies and deceit.
This is what I believe,
honestly.
But SELLING?
He swears he’ll stop
if I promise not to leave.
As he wraps his arms around me
big
strong
close
I feel we
are yet again
meant to be
like serendipity like floating downstream like good ole Henri
like love works.
Places
After the fight,
our relationship takes a turn.
I’ve found my place
my role
protector, mother hen—the new definition of me.
If Mom cannot be this to me
I can be this to X.
It’s what Lady Elba meant for me,
the High Priestess.
Still, I await my something big.
X and I find our new stride,
it feels right
and strange.
Like a bird unable to fly
or balloons caught in a tree
time turns.
Jane gets headaches daily
Melanie will only talk to her invisible friend,
Valerie
Miguel nags me
Dad ignores me
Ted begins texting me
April is now a blonde
Gavin,
my Gavin
my guide
stops talking to me.
Says I’m a fool if I think X can change.
Doesn’t have time for foolish people.
Tips his hat, leaves me
with his half of our banana split
in Thirty-One bittersweet Flavors.
But the Fool is my friend, right, Lady Elba?
How Smoke Burns
Lying around in X’s bed,
nestled up in the crook of his arm
watching him smoke
in and out
thinking about how we’re
in and out
just like that smoke.
falling in lovein
lyingout
making upin
fightingout
Cigarettes.
The only habit he’s kept.
I’m about to turn into
Sam, High Priestess, mother hen,
lecture about what he actually rolls in them
when he looks at me
a look I recall
a look I remember
a look before he called me
a baby
I shift my weightlift up my armgrab his cigarette
take a
long
slow
draw
choke from the sheer power
of his home-rolled cigarette.
X laughs,
reminds me that Dad would die if he caught me smoking
because I am not a rebel,
I’m reputable.
We Hendersons have a reputation to uphold …
His wordsinhaled in, blown outmake so much sense.
Where’s the Sam that wanted to
try thingsexperience lifeall of it?
All of It
With the good comes the bad.
But is the bad really so bad?
How
bad is bad?
Like lonely break-up bad? Or smiling-at-every-rally bad?
Worse than being called a baby?
Played like a fool?
How bad is bad?
Inferior to a boring step-mom?
Living without my mom?
Loving a boy who loves drugs?
How bad is bad?
Can it eliminate friendships? Take father from daughter?
Cause cancer?
Is bad poorer than a political promise?
More repulsive than lying?
How bad is bad?
And if I like it,
does that make it good?
How bad
is
bad?
Consulting April, Pt. II
PickupPickupPickupPickupPickupPickupPickupPickupPickup
April’s phone goes into voicemail.
I’m out with my man. Leave it at the beep.
Since when is Ralph a man?
A
clueless boy—yes
lazy guy—sure
but man?
I try again.
This time she picks up.
I plop on my bed, get comfy.
April:Wanna do something later?
Me:I can’t.
I mumble something about X.
April:Because you’re a couple again?
I mumble a perhaps.
Me:Thought you of all people would understand.
April:I want to, but he’s—
Me:Trying to change.
April:Trying?
Me:Maybe it’s not so bad.
April:What did I tell you about boys and drugs?
I quote our cafeteria conversation.
Me:People who do drugs are lame.
April:Good. So we agree.
Me:But not all drugs are bad.
Me:Some save lives, you know.
Me:Cure cancer even.
April:Right.
Her voice trails
sounds so far away
like a fuzzy, unfamiliar connection.
She sighs.
April:Look, are you okay?
I touch a dried-up rose petal beside my bed.
One from X.
From the sidewalk. It’s delicate.
And beautiful.
Me:Yeah, I’m good.
Consulting Gavin, Pt. II
Gavin:You leave him yet?
Me:You left me with your ice cream sundae.
Gavin:And you left … ?
Me:It’s complicated.
Gavin:It’s simple.
Me:You should try being more forgiving.
I’m thinking of George.
Gavin:You should try being honest.
Me:What’s that supposed to mean?
Gavin:He does drugs.
Which means he is a druggie.
He tells lies.
Which means he is a liar.
Me:People can change.