To The Girl Whose Soul Has Been Taken Back To Mexico//
To The Girl Who Was My Friend//To Myra//
It’s been two years since you’ve been gone.
That orange shirt used to be my favorite,
I can’t even hold it between my fingers
without thinking of you.
My hands shake everytime
I try to stay steady for a winged eyeliner.
The mascara smudges,
black ash on my face.
You were cremated.
I remember driving around on clear days
looking at the sun beams shining through the clouds.
Everyone said they were the stairways to heaven.
I took pictures that evening in the golden hour sky,
and I keep looking back behind me,
wondering if you were already standing there.