My silent paper murmurs, giggles
out of oozing shiny black ink,
scribbled with delicious precipitance
on a crumpled Hello Kitty pad during recess
He kissed me behind the toilets,
you know, the ones stinking of piss beneath the incense-cedar trees,
just like his mouth did
of cheap cigarettes and teenage dreams

The plastic pen runs, accelerates
to the beat of my silly black scared Hello Kitty heart,
slips, like a calf too eager to gallop,
when he can’t even stand up
{spilled ink, spilled feelings}
I stop writing. I breathe.

My silent paper murmurs, giggles, dies
to myself, of myself
among shiny spilled ink, black ink neatly enclosed between pink lines
sucre-sale confession,
only I, my silent paper, the rushing pen,

and maybe, I hope (do I dare? …)

/he/

will remember