I Remember MAG

By Renee J., Centreville, VA

     I remember when coming home
Meant forgetting my keys
And sheepishly asking
To stay over at your house
Because my mom wouldn’t be home
For three more days
I remember the smell
Of apple-flavored cigarettes
The dirty clothes strewn
Across the floor to hide
Your magazines
And the card I gave you for Christmas
I remember Friday nights
Sliding down the ice
On the hill behind your house
Dialing the number for the ambulance
When you slipped
And broke your arm
I remember the closeness
When your hands covered mine
On the black and white keys
Of that old piano
Choking out
Moonlight Sonata
I remember that night
The bottle breaking on the wall
Into a million shards
The sting on my flesh
And the smell of apples




Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 1 comment.


i love this so much!


SciArc

MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!