In an effort to distance myself from my past, I archived some of my old works from the summer. Recently, I found myself returning to some of those works for introspection. In thinking about pain as memories, I offer fragments—or some of those pieces of writing from my summer poetry.
from the poem, December and i am replaying our phone call in my head wondering how this happened
from the poem, Joshua Tree but the whole time i was anxious
from the poem, Shared Pain but you glorified the figures in your life while I used them as introspection
from the poem, Arsonist there are 23 versions of me each of them created by you in the hopes that somehow it would fix everything
from the poem, summer if i am being honest, i find myself playing detective all the time