She is mad at me;
even together we are apart.

I am three and screaming
I am seven and terrified
I am thirteen and suicidal
I am sixteen and at my breaking point
I am twenty two and an alcoholic
I am twenty five and getting my shit together.

I am twenty nine and sober.
I am a deer in headlights.

She is six inches away but we do not speak.

She is terrified I won’t return because that is the mantra

We run until our shoes fall off.

Cold Southern gasoline.

I’m throwing fuel on the fire.