Your Twelfth Winter

[i.might.be.a.bit.sad]

He tells you to say goodbye, but
your lips won’t say it,
the words are stuck.
The goodbye happens,
Even if you forbid it,
and suddenly
you are doubled over,
gasping.
Your whole body screams to have them back.

You are about to
explode
with want and longing and need.

You can feel your fingernails in your arm
But you can’t remember putting them there and
maybe you never did.

Some days, you remember that they still exist,
somewhere,
but not where you can find them.
You know they’re still there,
Just not where you can reach them
and that is the worst.
On days like these,
you remember the feeling of your nails in your arm,
but now you have more efficient ways
To cause pain.

And 12 years olds aren’t
supposed to be wearing long sleeves.
12 years olds aren’t
supposed to be this sad.
12 year olds aren’t
supposed to want to
go away.

But hey,
life isn’t fair
and God knows you learnt that,
The winter of your 12th year.