“i’m still figuring it all out.”
it’s empty inside the old white brick house,
the rooms smell of old lives, old lies.
my cousin says “it’ll be alright”.
“sure. Right. Let’s hurry home.”
“what for?” She asks, running her hand over the grass.
Her brown hair shouldering down her back.
sunlight on her feet.
“Wheel of Fortune is on.”
She stares at me, and i look away.
I put out my cigarette,
and we move through the field.
not speaking, barely breathing.
It’s empty outside.