I was at a bar and it was so dimly lit. I wanted to laugh and tell you the menu must be terrible. They wanted it to be hidden, must be way we ere in the dark. A girl spoke to me that reminded me of your diction. She was slurring, it was late, she was a long way from home. I wanted to put my arms around her, tell her everything would be fine. Make sure her alarm got her up for the life tomorrow. The air we exhaled left vapor to dissipate. We were the only ones around. We could hear the voices in the distance carried by the wind. These sounds were acceptable out in the open. It was always another story in our apartment. The wind slamming the door to the roof, the shifting of metal in cabinets. Sleep and darkness sometimes made us weary, the sun was only ever minutes away. The anxiety of waking suddenly was always less in the morning.
I lost my hat again. You used to tease me to keep track of my things. You’d hold my keys in your pocket keeping what was important with you. Sometimes you took my phone, said it was too dangerous without a case. I never cared. Life happens how it happens, but broken doesn’t mean abandoned. My Spider-Man phone still worked with cracked pieces in the corner. You said it looked trashy, but a phone is a phone. My screen still lit up every time your name appeared. Letters spelled out something, always asking, have you forgotten about me? Forgotten the days we laid under sheets, quiet, warm, nothing to exist outside. The snow fell around us, we trusted it, loved it. Raindrops froze, why not us in that moment?
My apartment smelled like gas last night. A room filled with good intention as the leak let poison into our bones. The warning beep of the smoke detector, our lungs filled with promise and eyes burning with intent. No one could find the source. The hallways were barely toxic, no professional found a leak. All quiet, working order. There has to be answer but it was nowhere to be found. Windows opened to allow the mixing of patterns. We slept well despite the smell. We heard things shifting in the dark, the clicking of appliances.
Adapted to the circumstances, we all woke to the rain.