Her for Her

Evie

I never even knew her name

Her middle name, it had meaning behind it.

The one her parents didn’t change,

To keep history.

I thought I would someday,

Along the way.

That keep her personality.

Of fake fier hair.

That changed,

Quicker than her size

Molding legs to perfect angles.

I never knew why.

Why every door opening,

Why every light turning on,

Why every voice,

Made her jump.

Crinkling the edge of dark shirt.

Long to cover slices,

Longer to slender self,

Balling up fraying edges.

Fists small for her body.

Knuckles frail.

I never understood

Understood how much was missing

Until she disappeared,

Lost in my past,

Covering my brain.

Folding in upon itself.

Collected into snapshots,

And mismatched conversations

Of dead friends, unplanned.

Never will be reorganized,

To cope with loose pieces In our

But pain stained mind

Evie

Evie is an editor for the Boom Site Literary Magazine.