typing on the empty side

of an abandoned letter

but you will not see

the mistakes and laziness

-just the finished product

of another

motherfucking

poem.

And to think.

How many times did I stay

When I should've gone?

How many times did I limit

When I should've just been free?

How many times did I hold out my hands

Instead of holding myself?

i guess i died a long time ago

i guess i didn't notice that blood was no longer flowing through my veins or

that i was no longer breathing

i guess i didn't notice when i bit my fingernails down to the quick or when i stopped blinking to refresh my eyes

i didn't even realize when my body turned from glorious green

to raging reds and yellows

now i'm dead and i've lost my leaves

you have a way of doing that to me

When I was a little kid I had this rare disorder that was fixed with a simple surgery but the surgeon must've been drunk. He did a real hack job on me and the scar was pretty spectacular. The misshapen flesh-covered centipede shaped scar sat just east of my navel and ran vertically down my belly about nine inches.

During the hot summer when I'd go swimming or throw my shirt off while riding bikes with friends, people would always ask,"Whoa how'd you get that scar?" I hated talking about it and I was always trying to explain because everyone asked about it...everyone. You would too, if you saw a little kid with a kool-aid smile, running around shirtless with a 9" scar taking up his tummy real estate.

So...I just decided to make up a story to explain away my spectacular scar.

One hot sunny day I peddled up to the Tastee Freeze with my partners in crime and this old guy just busted out, "Hey what happened to you, where'd you get that scar kid?" I spun around, threw my bike on the ground and yelled, "Knife Fight!"

I flipped him off and we rode away.

I would keep the memory of the first day, walking by the river with you. I would remember the kudzu-like ivy growing up the embankment as we talked and learned more about each other. I would remember how much I was intrigued with you and how much I felt like I was supposed to be there, right at that moment, with you. I would remember feeling like I was about to begin an adventure.

We crept out of my bedroom window and looked up to the sky. The night sky fell down on us and the stars seemed to cascade down. I felt a little lightheaded and dizzy as I looked up. The darkness wrapped around us.

"See, there's the Big Dipper," I said and pointed up at some stars. Maybe it was the little dipper. I wish I knew more about that sort of stuff. Crickets and cicadas whirred and pulsed, creating a roar that enveloped the night and made my ears vibrate. The only source of light was the moon and it beamed down, lighting a path for us.

We were silent as we crept past the house and made our way on to the dirt road that wound a trail into the darkness. The rest of the way would have to be walked from memory--the road narrowed and disappeared into a canopied tunnel of shrubs and bushes. It was hard to see two feet in front of my face. The air was heavy with humidity and my skin immediately became damp. My clothes started sticking to me.

I turned on my red transistor radio and wrapped the strap around my wrist. Static came in and out as the Carpenters said they'd be coming back this way again, baby. I picked a pebble out of my sandal, dusted off my feet and tried to adjust my bathing suit without calling too much attention to myself.

"Ever done anything like this?" Lauren asked me. "Yeah...all the time," I lied. I'd never snuck out of my house for more than five minutes before the utter aloneness of my surroundings propelled me back into the house. I fancied myself a rebel and a loner, but to tell the truth, I desperately just wanted to be liked and this little excursion just might give me the credibility I really wanted.

"It's not too much farther," I half whispered, scared that someone would hear me. No one was around and we were out in the middle of nowhere. Who did I think would hear me? We picked up the pace, kicking up red dirt dust along the way.

"Did Mark say he'd go to the party with you?" She asked. No..he'd said no along with the nine other guys I'd asked. They'd all said no. "Want to go together?" I'd rather go with Mark, but I didn't want to go alone. Shitty guys. They just really didn't get it.

We walked silently past a large green abandoned barn. It held the remains of two old tractors and a plow that were grappling with the passage of time and the kudzu that had long ago begun to envelope them. Moonlight glinted off of the roof of the barn--the only thing we could see in the darkness were the divots in the tin covering the roof. It looked like a shadowy lumbering dinosaur leaning down to eat.

We passed an empty lot--one of only two traces of human existence anywhere nearby. The house that had once stood there had been torn down years ago. I remember helping my mother dig up daffodil bulbs when there was still a decaying house on the property. Momma and I had taken my red Radio Flyer wagon and filled it up with blooming flowers and transplanted them to our yard in neat rings around the two pecan trees on either side of what had been our new house. 15 years later my new stepmother dug them up because she thought they were tacky.

We waked in mostly silence, especially when we passed Miss Bunny's house. That's where the dirt road became a private driveway. She took lunch money at my school and she scared me.

Occasionally, we talked about the boys in our class, but it was superficial. Neither of us really believed we had a chance with any of them. It was fun to dream, though. It was fun to imagine that one day one of them would notice us.

After a few minutes, we rounded the corner and I straddled the cattle gap, carefully making sure that I didn't fall in. I reached out to hold Lauren's hand and helped her navigate the poles. She seemed a little too delicate to cross it on her own and it wasn't too long ago that I had fallen in between the large poles meant to keep cattle from crossing. I still had an ugly bruise across both my shins.

The pool was in the distance and it was lit up by the moon. It was beautiful, big and calm. I climbed the tall chain link fence and opened it from the inside. I set the radio down on the side of the pool and dove in. Crowded House played through static. The water was warm and distinctly different than it felt during the day. It was like a warm bath. Traces of chlorine were on the bricks surrounding the pool.

We were getting away with something. It felt good. It felt real.

In the distance, a large logging truck drove by, breaking the monotone chaos of the singing crickets.

I dipped my head into the water, took off my suit and threw it to the side and held my breath. I'd never done that before and reveled in my bravery. I swam the long distance of the pool without coming up for air.

I'd never done this before. The water felt magical on my skin. I felt an exhilarating rush envelop me.

I felt free.