my days are cold

“The wood is damp and I am afraid”

The wood is damp and I am afraid
Sitting on a stump
My favorite stump
In my uncle’s orchard.
It’s a cold day,
The grass is slick and wet against
My heels
But I don’t mind,
I like going barefoot.
Barefoot is my favorite.

Stumps help you avoid parties.
I don’t like them.
I always have a habit of sneaking
Out the back door whenever my
Uncle decides to ring up old
A few, he says.
It’s never a few.
Then I open the door and feel the
Grass on my heels
As I find my stump in the dark
Thinking to myself, 
This grass is wet.
Truthfully, I’d be worried if it

Stumps are good for singing.
I like singing
When I’m far away from the parties.
My uncle and his friends always
Ask me to sing
No, I say.
I do not like that.
They do not like my singing like
The stump likes my singing.
When I sit alone
I will sing low and soft, and
Bury my feet in the moss.
The stump likes this.
I make the stump cry with my
But those are times when it’s dark
And I am not afraid

This time, I will sing low
And soft
And bury my feet in the moss
And I will not go back to the party.

It’s quiet out. I watch my uncle
Shut off the porch light.

—  e. Valentina

Monday 8:27am
I woke up with you on my mind.
You called me babe last night —
my heart is still pounding.

Tuesday 10:53pm
Today I realized we won’t work.
What we are is hurting her.
And I think she matters more to me than you do.

Wednesday 11:52pm
I broke things off with you today.
She barely said a word.
I’ve never regretted anything more than this.

Thursday 4:03pm
I shouldn’t have sent that message.
You shouldn’t have been so okay with receiving it.

Friday 9:57pm
I almost messaged you today.
I didn’t.

Saturday 8:49pm
I’m walking around town in search of alcohol.
They say that liquor numbs the pain of having a broken heart.
I want to put that to the test.

Sunday 2:32am
I heard you texted a girl you’ve never spoken to before.
I wonder if it’s because you’re trying to replace me.
I can’t help but wish you weren’t.
I thought I was irreplaceable.

—  a week with you on my mind, c.j.n.
Move on, leave, run away, escape this place… but don’t forget about me, about us, about this town. Always remember where you come from so you can appreciate how far you’ve come.
—  c.j.n.