Lunking thoughts hoard
as I tie my boney shoe
the laces seeping together
into a practice of sleeplessness.
I sit next to him in class
our fading friendship
was a teased nature
of heteronormative smoothies.
The rock concerts and recitals
with his hand in mine shaking;
it’s big and rough
and he drowns me in space
pushing too close. The shoelaces
now wind around my throat.
My family unwrapping him
like threaded socks
at Christmas. His eyes
squinted like a bushy squirrel
in a football helmet.
Life would be easier with Mike
but I love Ali.
Jenna E. Lackey is an undergraduate student majoring in psychology and creative writing at Hartwick College and is originally from Troy, New York. Her interests include experimental romanticism and some more macabre works. She has been published in Hartwick College’s Word of Mouth and UAlbany’s ARCH.