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
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