Words by R. B. Sanders
Content warning: discussion of sexual assault
I want to meet you again in your rescue
Or in your shame
It is never anything neutral
I cannot conceive us having a mundane conversation
Hello how are you the weather is nice do you still work at the pizza
place no you don’t you live with your mother no I don’t anymore are
your parents well I see you still drive your old car did you ever
Get around to feeling guilty?
Would you consider it as a
Favour to me, an old friend?
There’s a reason somewhere buried
Why I first rolled my ankle with you
Everyone accused me of faking it
I accused myself
Of asking for it
Ever since I roll it every now and again
Sober coming home at midnight
In sensible boots that have scratches on the side
My wardrobe is easily divided
Into what you saw me wear
What I have purchased since
And which shoes I have rolled that ankle in.
In all your memories of me, I better be fabulous and interesting
In all my memories of me, I turn out to be more boring than someone
you ever could have loved
Only something your friends thought could be taken
A drunk child legal for the fi rst time, alone for the second time that
night
Hindsight is murky and eighteen-year-olds murkier
I need you to remember me as fondly as I dislike you now.
Neutrality does not come easy to me
I’m testing it out
I hope your father is well he is a funny man I hope you believe in
yourself more these days and I hope your job pays you better
Write something before I feel it
Do I convey acceptance?
