Well That's Poetic: What We Were Before We Burned Down

by Katie Simpson

what we were before we burned down

I.

i didn't mean to feel this

but

i stumbled upon

the memories of us:

my legs,        your arms,

         our laughter, 

          preserved

in technicolor      silence.

it's a shame —

we could build comedies

walking down

                  montreal's streets

or sunbathing at

the galilee's edges.

did anyone find us funny?

it doesn't matter now.

the words melted 

                    in the summer wind.

(sometimes they still burn

         under my tongue)

II.

what pictures

             don't show:

my myopic belief that 

        no one could want me,

your desire

        spoken but never

acknowledged.

our commonalities

    tooclose,

kindling ready to burn

                           us

                  down.

not even the summer rain

      could saved us

           (forgive me

if i started the fire,

           i was too broken

           to contain

my tongue.)

            

III.

it's been almost 

4,000 days

        since we built something.

not even the sun

       has remained

                       the same.

   who are you now?

do you still write? do you still need 

   too many gigabytes

       for all your music?

words aren't enough 

   to bring us back

   

don't mistake me:

   most days

   i'm grateful to

be more  than that

   broken,           lonely,

                  girl.

but tonight, 

i stumbled across

you

me

        and all we once 

were.

i just 

    miss those kids

      their wide eyed scars

             before we

                      burned them down.