Stretch Armstrong

Stick with me, kid, and you’ll be just fine
is what would’ve been said
if this was a beloved film of our past.
Instead, it’s a future cult-classic
where you leave
out of necessity
before I was ready
and so I’m left struggling
to cling to who you used to be
and who you may have become.

Time is all we never had.

That scene plays back
and the pit in my stomach grows.
Steadily, I erode.
The world around me, its former vibrancy,
has pinned up a bleak backdrop
and I retreat further into myself
where your essence remains
underneath the spotlight.

I focus on the warmth of this cluster of memories
–the good ones–
to keep me standing.
Though this surface is gooey and shifting
my hardened state finds traction
and I trudge forever forward.

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