Highlight the 1s with gold
when it’s the time of year we all flock like geese,
swooping and swirling towards the South.
Reverting to our original stomping grounds.
Easing back into the life we used to call our own.
The sounds, the smells,
the voices, and feelings
Sunshine-y and lovely to look at;
our most prized possessions lined up on a shelf.
Paint the 2s with blue
when I’m sitting crossed-legged on my childhood bed,
looking at my childhood walls.
Staring at the room that I’ve known for over 15 years.
The lavender walls I begged for mock me while the photographs
of those I once knew line the walls.
Living out of a suit case in my once-home house,
feeling strange taking food
from the used-to-be-mine fridge.
Stain the 3s
with shards of crimson
when I feel anger bubble up from somewhere I’ve never known.
My parents ask me
“Where are you going?”
“What are you doing?”
All this accountability is something I had forgotten.
Something I thought only teenager-me would have to deal with.
But somehow, I am still here in my once-home house with my
And when you shade in the 4s
with the gray blurry blobs of
the high-school girl I once knew,
understand that she’s now a stranger.
Dark forests of green should fill the voids of
as I realize my friends have changed
and I have not.
They know what they want
and how they’re going to get there.
They have internships
and something called stability.
And I’m jealous,
making the green of pure
creep toward the black barriers that outline
like weeds taking over a garden.