I remember the rule of “You will finish dinner, or have it every meal”
the tiny white pasta resembled seashells,
but was filled with a creamy yellow paste
simply the thought made me gag.
breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
I remember the sand tickling my cherry tinted skin
before I danced into the foamy, cold water
that so violently grabbed my ankles
and attempted to permanently kidnap me
before my lifeless silhouette was
stretched out against the unfamiliar bronze arms.
I remember your words flashing across the screen
the words used as weapons to stab the weakest crevasses in my heart.
if that was not enough, your threats followed.
I thought they were empty.
not toward me, but to yourself.
and then there was nothing more.
I remember pushing my black pencil skirt down towards my knees
and clicking my heels
as my eyes dart all around the crowded airport
eagerly awaiting to see what you turned out to be
but you, sadly, had not changed in the slightest.
I remember how different it felt when I walked through the door
that I had pushed open thousands of times
and how the color in my face quickly faded as you told me
i was no longer wanted and to hand over the keys.
The embarrassing walk back to the door
that I would push open for the last time
I remember the excitement I had
for a second opportunity
to fight for you and get you back.
But suddenly, the door flew open
and I saw books flying across the room
I watched numbly as your fingers tightened around the necklace
that you so abrasively snatched out of my arms.
I remember when you told me that I was a child
and forced me to sit at the designated table for such.
The anger showed shades of red on my face.
Until I realized that you forgot I had keys to my own apartment,
To my own truck, and worked for it all.
With no help from you.
But I was still a child.
I remember listening to The Beach Boys
Crammed in the middle seat
On the road to an exciting adventure
And you knocking on the door to our room
With a single California rose in your hands
A perfect moment.
I remember the fear I had when I was forced to ask for your help
To tell you that I had failed and only one option left.
You response was to tell me how unfair a proposition
How much of a burden I turned out to be
And that you should not have to suffer the consequences
Of my wrong decisions
But you didn’t have a choice
So you made the sacrifice.
I remember sitting in the odd colored truck.
Crying so hard that little whimpers escaped
The collar of my shirt, drenched
From the floods falling from my eyes
I almost gave up
I remember quivering as I opened the door
And sat inside your truck for what I thought was the last time
Trying to push words out of my mouth
Words attempting to hide under the heavy breaths
I watched little teardrops slide down your cheek
Suddenly, rushes of panic came over me
How could a person be so horrible?
I remember giggling as I poured the last drop of wine into my glass.
She left for a moment
Utter shock took over my mind
As you muttered the words
“I couldn’t describe my dream girl,
Because I would just be describing you.”
My glass hits the ground
And somehow doesn’t shatter.
I remember waking up a day or two ago.
And not feeling scared to face the morning Sun
For the first time in so long.
But anthems of long ago, blasting in my car
Same truths different circumstances.