Peaks
Every Sunday, I'd hopscotch
to the top of the hill
behind your house.
Not because it was fun-
but because I knew you
would watch me-
and you watching
made my head dizzy
with laughter
so terrific and shattering
my ears would pop.
You used to tell me to
go pretend wherever I
wanted to pretend;
the world was mine-
never be afraid.
The day after you died,
I hopscotched my way
down your hill
where you used to
watch me,
I stole the hope
you had for me,
and embraced it as if
I would never see it again.
I haven't.
The world isn't mine
and I'm still afraid.
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