for poetry club

goodbye. to calling it “the plant room.” to inside jokes and cult chants and high school feeling perfect. even though it isn’t.

goodbye. to somehow, for a moment feeling like the child i never got to be. naive and small and innocent, laughing until my stomach hurt over the stupidest shit. to perching contests and piggyback rides, and tu es caca eeboo, or something like that.

goodbye. to magic, and pouring our hearts out on scrap paper, and the giddy rush of finally having friends.

goodbye. even though i can still see the memories, flickering through your eyes. even though i think you’ll always be there, carved out into my chest.

goodbye. because even after everything you gave me, i think i’m ready to let go. i think it’s time to fly. and i know you’ll always be there buried deep, down inside.