Monday, August 8, 2011


there was a crossroad
where she was I
and I was she
they even mixed up our names at school
asked if we were twins
I hated when they called me Karen
she was the slutty one
or was it me?

we wore our hair long
down, parted in the middle
or softly to the side
she had the boobs we all wanted
was the first to get her belly buttoned pierced
she partied but she didn't get sick like the rest of us
she lied for us
yes, we had been at her house
where was her grown up?
she introduced me to boys
got me to join the softball team
she always had a fresh rasberry on her thigh from sliding.
she wasn't afraid of pain

then there was the trek to santa barbara
where we watched her fade
she attracted the wrong kind of boys
she attracted the dark
her mother lived there
where mine was hers
and hers was mine
we always knew what was before us

I last saw her outside of a movie theatre
She twitched and spoke fast
and her friend had a tattoo on his neck
she smiled and was happy to see me
and i wondered where she had been
while the rest of us were taking finals
and spending our weekends puking in strangers toilets

she was no longer me
and I no longer her
or was she?

"I was just thinking about her," I tell my father.
"I wrote a story last week with her in it." I tell him.
She had been on my mind.
"You had a really strong connection with her."
Although it was short
it was for an important period of time
I gave up on her,
like so many others.
I'm still afraid of the dark.

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