notes in a desk, leftover emotion from high school.

i read them and feel like i’m peering down at a life not my own.

it is strange to think: i used to be capable of such things. 

my finger swells, balloons, it is twice the size of its other.

i cannot write and imagine the nail tearing off, dislodged by the pressure below. 

i wake thirsty in the night and drink water from a tap in the bathroom.

i used to brush my teeth here with my sister, staring at each other in the mirror.

we drink pitchers of beer at the bar near our first place together and smile.

but i am visiting, and will leave again. soon.