I’m sorry but–
By Sam Meagher ‘21
Jess saving me on Olin’s steps.
Baring witness to cigarettes and stories without end. There’s proof
that we had something here.
The taste has faded from our lips but my
head’s still fucking ringing; the tape
caught in the deck.
Dry spots on Foss whose green had yet to
grow. I’ll see you soon
but none of us know when.
It should matter that we walked back together
that last night. The words on the wall are
still there.
Two months learning to see through the fog.
My heart in the pit of my stomach.
The words on the wall are still there.
The dirt under my nails says be here now;
we haven’t lost it all.
You can lose something that hasn’t
happened yet.
You can grieve
by breaking sticks, by taking steps, by
crying,
by never shutting up, by clinging like so many
gathered burrs, by helping every single family member
whenever you can.
You can help by distinguishing future
from past. By having lived;
by living on.