Salty fresh air, cool breeze blows,

Trees left and right, ocean flows.

The best childhood to give,

Daring to believe that fairies live.

Magic warms you belly to heart,

Leaving would simply tear one apart.

Where else is high school a palace?

Orcas pose midair, free of malice.

Enchanted forest, nursery rhyme park,

Ride a ferry see yellow jellyfish against dark.

Sweet fruits blossom, berries to pick,

Scent of rain needs no candle nor wick.

Circus of elephants in a large dome, Walking down streets, feeling at home.

Growing up one long memory of good,

Tacoma, you'll always be my neighborhood.

Fairylights and a Van Gogh poster,

You said kissing in my room meant kissing ‘under the stars’.

Now we’re packed tight in my single bed,

Lying like matches in a box,

Or the last two cigarettes in your pack.

Artificial starlight, now artificial moonlight,

The soft blue silhouette of your body against my alarm clock.

Smooth edges and crisp lines.

Angel wing shoulder blades, and unruly black curls.

And me, awake.

My college student body clock

And your new 9to5 job,

My weeks of 4am, black coffee assignments

And your parade of midday clients,

Your deep sleep breath,

And my acute fear of transience.

And the two of us in bed,

Alone

Together.

Thank you for buying me lunch

It was wonderful

Reminiscing about old times

We have always had a connection

So many precious memories

I was so touched and moved by the words you spoke

Your love shines though

I hope mine did too

Tell me about your 'big weekend', I want to know about it because I care about you. Except I've stopped hearing what you say about what you've tried and what you want to try.

Tell me, does it surprise you to know how it hurts me to hear you brag about it (and I let you), like you're proud of it? Like you don't realise that the bragging is what concerns me the most, because it means that you've found that this escapism means you don't have to face that you would rather self-harm than self-reflect. (You need to learn to reflect in order to heal the pain that is entirely yours and partly inherited from the internet.) Tell me you've seen enough of yourself to know that it's ironic that you are so scared of losing control of yourself that you have to control when you lose control. Is it an antidote if I can see it isn't working?

You know how they say kids these days reference drugs by sniffng a finger slashed under their nose (And I wonder how they know to do this, because when we were kids we only knew of grown up juice and maybe a joint). I told you I met a 13yo recovering crackhead, didn't I? I'm not saying you're responsible for them, ofc, but we are all responsible for ourselves, and surely then each other.

And so I am sorry, because it hasn't been very long since I started having to rely on you to do your part as a colleague, rather than trust that you will as a friend. I'm sorry I stood by in the past and let you, instead of helping you find a different way.

Let me tell you, it would've been so much easier if we'd done something about it before that curtain rise. When did my inner voice become so cynical? Where did you go? You don't reply, so talking to you becomes more and more like talking to myself.

我的担心让我寂寞。