1:29 AM & it still hurts

it’s been four months since that monday

four months since that monday

and i’ve never been a fan of mondays.

but the tears rolling down my face every night make it hard to believe

that it’s been four months since i’ve heard you say my name

it’s still hard to believe that it’s been four months 

because my heart still hurts like it was yesterday

and my hand still feels empty without yours in it.

and every monday 

i still wonder if curfew is the only thing that pulls her away from you each night,

i still wonder if you grab her waist and pull her back one last time

just like you used to when curfew made me leave.

it still hurts like it was yesterday

but i’ll keep telling everyone i’m over you.

i think i forgot the sound of your voice and that hurts more than anything

i keep looking over my shoulder 

because maybe if i turn around enough times 

you’ll be standing there

it will be november again

and i won’t be wondering about her

it will be november

and you’ll grab my hand

like yours was made to fit

because it was.

i’m over you.

i’m over you.

i hope they believe me and i hope someday monday doesn’t hurt so bad

i’m over you

and maybe someday i’ll believe it myself.

this isn't about graduation

taxes are due on april 15

resolutions begin on january 1

presents are opened on december 25

candy is passed out on october 31

everything’s green on march 17

fireworks and freedom on july 4

love on february 14

caps and gowns and diplomas on may 28.

it’s marked on my calendar just like any normal holiday

as if it’s something to celebrate

but this isn’t about graduation.

we’ve been here for three years 

but have any of us ever stopped to read the quotes on the walls?

hallways that sound like headaches

and classrooms too crowded to be anything short of lonely

but this isn’t about high school.

my mom still does my laundry,

and i couldn’t tell you the first thing about cooking

or ironing

but this isn’t about graduation or anything that might come after.

i remember when the only people who laid down on train tracks were cartoons

and the word “suicide” didn’t make me cringe.

i remember when summer meant sidewalk chalk and sprinklers under trampolines

and the word “college” didn’t make my hands sweat.

i remember when the future was still twelve grades away 

and the word “senior” was irrelevant.

but this isn’t about kindergarten.

and it’s not about graduation.

this is about may 28 and the 81 days standing between here and there

this is about the 81 days.

this is about 81 days and the fact that my ears can’t hear anything past the 2:15 bell

and my nose can only smell bittersweet.

this is about 81 days and i never thought i’d be the one chanting ‘senior year’ at the last black light dance.

but here i am

and here we are.

81 days.