i hate 14th so much that
i stare at square concrete
slabs passing me by in silence
forgetting to look up at my destination.

i pant so hard
that i get angry when
your mom holds my arm while
she attempts to start a conversation
about how i love you,
halfway up the hill.

and when everyone asks me
how you are,
i have a set answer to quickly hide this separation
without revealing how shitty that question
makes me feel.

i listen to how everyone misses you up here
and i found that maybe i have been living in lies,
and how at some point someone will eventually
see through
my bullshit.