i lose myself in the memory of his backseat
night after night after night,
stench-filled, sweaty, car-rocking.
i wonder if when i’m 40
i’ll be the same 19
year old girl who sits
in countless rooms thinking of you.
maybe if carve myself
to blood-let you
i’ll feel you leave me
in rich red river run.
maybe the sadness will pour out?
the weight, lifted off my shoulders
and i can breathe
after ten long months
of hesitation.
i’ve risen from the dead
not yet alive all this time
consumed by the past
and pasts passed.

Carolina Gutfreund is an aspiring writer with a few publications and has been previously published by Thread Magazine, The USF honors college, and The Library of Congress. She is studying the fields of English and Environmental Science and wants to work in the conservation felid and further her writing about nature.