A Girl Grows

cliff contemplations [edited]

[this is from my book Love, Lana, but I thought i'd add it here & change it up a little]

sometimes,
I will go to the edge of the cliff
and remember
how
your fingertips brushed my brow
like feathery
paintbrushes,
newly bought
and smooth.

I am not afraid of how the world dips
underneath the cliff.
I dangle my legs over it
because I wish I was brave,
but really I am a cowardly girl
who fell head over heels for a boy
and ended up hurting herself.

You made me grow.
I thought I helped you, too,
but really
I broke the petals of all your flowers
in my haste to your heart.

I remember how
I would lean close
and just watch the constellation
of freckles
that slightly kissed the bridge of
your nose,
and you would meet your forehead
with mine,
smile,
laugh,
close your lashy,
five-hundred-feet-under-the-ocean
eyes,
and kiss me.

I miss you.

—lana