Small Town as The Palimpsest That I Keep Trying to Reset Back to Original Childhood Happiness
Would we have been friends in a different town? / This town is all I have of you now.
I’m stuck in the same town—but I’m saying it wrong; I’m not stuck—I’m staying—I’m 30 years old and afraid of living on my own—
I have dreams and desires and places way beyond the horizon; but there are also things I can’t make leave me—I can’t leave.
I found out you died what seems like years ago and also like today and also like it didn’t happen, but it did, in September last year.
Would we have been friends in a different town?
This town is all I have of you now.
I wish I’d been a better friend. I wish I could tell you how sorry I am.
I wish my grief wasn’t so selfish—let me unknot to a loose pile of threads—my friends and their friends and me—our timelines start here. I don’t want to leave that behind;
I don’t want to start another thread.
I am stuck in time—I’m holding on to the closest understanding I have to love.
I can never be 15 again—but I can try, dear Lord I can try.
B.A. O'Connell was born and raised in Lockney, Texas, alongside a family they can't tell you about, or they'd have to kill you. Their chapbook, Sewn, Together, Anew and their novella, As I Want to Remember It are available on Amazon. Find out more about their creative projects @ baoconnell.com—also follow along on their twitter @OnceIateataco and their tumblr—hellishrebukesystem.tumblr.com
