SERENA LIN

they tell me about the boy

the same way they say / tell me
about how you threw yourself
out of a second story window / only sprained
your ankle / come on / you didn't
really mean to kill yourself / tell me about
the deer in your headlights / it careening
into your windshield still
desperate with life / still flailing
blood / how you dreamed of dying
as roadkill for the / longest time after

you're supposed to
write what you know / so know it:
here is the box under my bed / here are
the yearbook signatures that
bled into my memory / here is the hole
I dug out of my chest / I want to be
memorialized / like this
forever / yearning and hungry
to be understood

with no misconceptions about
whose side I was on / I've always been
on my own / and for the fossil record:
I picked you / not the other way
around / it was careless / blindly
digging through the
dollar bin / plucking something
out eyes closed / and
being surprised by its beauty / you /
in soft focus / light like
stained glass bathing you
untouchable / knowing you
was / like opening the window
after a long winter or getting knocked
off your feet by a wave / the sand gritty in
your scalp and / between your thighs for
days afterwards

I watched you into
nighttime rhapsody / I tricked myself into
sleeping / sometimes I got up in the middle
of the night / caught my
reflection on the way to the bathroom /
and there in the orange wedges of
early morning / I was ugly and
half-formed / drooping with
the effort of remaining up-right

when you have cancer
your body may see / other parts
of your body as foreign invaders
and attack / and that is what this was:
me / and you / and not knowing
the difference / eating alive parts of myself
I didn't recognize / leaving me unwhole and
miserable / taking you apart / sick
with guilt

I am not a nice girl /
I know this with the bleary
blind certainty of someone who has been
told one thing over and over / I did this
to your heart / it was a hit-and-run / I didn't
stop long enough to even comprehend
the pieces I scattered you into / just
continued into the woods / tripping
over my haste / wanting / more than
anything / for you to call after me.






Serena Lin is a junior at Moorestown Friends School. She is the co-editor in chief of Bitter Melon Magazine, an online literary magazine of art, prose, and poetry. Currently, she spends her meager free time eating bagels and walking her dog, Ruby. (www.bittermelonmag.com)



Boxcar Poetry Review - ISSN 1931-1761