I was unmoved by the sky. someone somewhere said my name but my heart did not recognize it. i stared out the window looking for something to come back. my brother made a joke about me not having what it takes to be a mother. i’ve forgotten every name intended for the children i might never have. i dreamed something terrible and told no one. a man on the street asked me for help and i did nothing. i did nothing. yesterday, i went home and wrote about a ghost. there’s one in my driveway. i miss that old minivan we used to have. i don’t call the people i want to talk to even though i know they’ll pick up. something inside of me does not want to be touched. i have a feeling that this place won’t be mine anymore. it’s been brought up at dinner more than once. i can’t forgive myself for my latest mistake. love is just a word to me now. when i can’t fall asleep at night, i practice saying it out loud. it doesn’t feel right on my tongue. i used to think it was something i’d be good at, but i don’t even look for it in my own poems anymore. i think it must have went out the back door when i wasn’t paying attention. i hope it finds someone who remembers to leave the lights on.