And I’m stuck in the in-between,
the moment after a punch,
but before the pain hits,
with the words keep crashing into me.
The room distorts.
Laughter warps.
Faces blur.
Colors bleed.
And I don’t feel my hands until one’s in his.
“Yo—Sonny,” he murmurs.
“That was years ago.”
He leans closer, mouth close to my ear.
“That was kid shit. Just some dumb promise.
“I swear—I wasn’t…
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
His voice breaks around the corners.
“Don’t make it a thing, aight?
“It doesn’t have to be that.”
I nod. Or shake my head. Who knows.
“I need air.” My voice sounds underwater.
“I gotta step out.”
I’m already walking,
hallway tilting hot and yellow.
Like I’m walking into a fever.
Maria behind me?—
“What’s wrong with her?”
Andrew’s voice slams through it?—
“Nothin’s wrong with her.”
“Well, somethin’s wrong wi?—”
“I took her to the fuckin’ roof, Ma, okay? Jesus.”
