When you’re too young to know it
your body is already deciding
what gets abandoned. Not every night
will end up memory. Quiet fades,
an at-home dye job. Once you were auburn
and swisher sweet, ankle deep in pool water
telling Amanda boys don’t know how to kiss
until she said prove it so you did but
you can’t currently remember touching her,
only the handfuls of plain Cheerios you ate all weekend
at her parent’s house, how you fell asleep during I ❤ Huckabees,
how her boyfriend didn't think it odd when he found you both
in her bed, not naked, or even close to compromised,
but quiet in a language he would never speak.
EMILY O’NEILL is a writer, artist, and proud Jersey girl. Her recent poems and stories can be found in Muzzle Magazine, Paper Darts, Sugar House Review, and Whiskey Island, among others. Her debut collection is forthcoming from Yes Yes Books in 2014. You can pick her brain at http://emily-oneill.com.