Come Back Please
Your chapped lips against mine made me think back to our grape soda stained freshmen days after school when we thought nobody was looking.
You would look at me out of the corner of your eyes, and that sly smile that edged your face told me everything I ever needed to know.
Except how to deal with the pain and loss I felt after your death.
That eternal absence that all of a sudden turned high school into a mausoleum.
Your locker assigned to a girl with two brown braids on the side of her head, and braces so thick you couldn't see her teeth end.
Nothing was the same, yet nothing was different.
I walked down halls that hummed with a constant energy.
That energy that used to get me through the day is now a nagging reminder that when I get home, there will be no automatic phone call straight to my voice mail from you checking to see that I was okay.
There will be nothing.
And I would rather have chaos than a numb, grey, all-consuming, nothing.
I miss you, it's true.
But more so... I long for you.
Copyright © Lisa Ebehardt | Year Posted 2014
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