Why Do We Run to the Bridge

I said thank you for the flowers over and over in my head. They were pretty, red and full like the ones that were gathered on the bed for our anniversary.

I plucked one entire flower from the stem and sat on the concrete. My body was shivering from the cold. White-knuckled and quivery, I clutched the petals tightly with my fist, staring off into the blurred street lights. All the while the voices faded in and out, buzzing with a familiar static. He came up running in jagged motions. My eyes clicked shut.

Peeling me off the ledge like a child clinging to her father’s leg.

Then we were interrogated by some officials. We’ve been here before… smile and thank them for their civil concerns. Reassure them of your safety. Don’t make any sudden moves.

Go home, shower, lay in her arms. Remember what this felt like years ago? Remember how you love her lips.

Wake up, voices coming through the walls. It’s freezing.  He looks exhausted.

I a m exhaustimg

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