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5 Aug 2014

I still remember the girls who held you. 
Not by length of hair or by number of tattoos
but by name—the ABCs minus the E. 

I remember late nights and dead batteries
and smiling. You’d call me drunk, 
1, 2, 3 a.m., and I’d always answer. 
You’d make incoherent conversation, 
and I would fall asleep. 

I’d listen to the ramblings of last night’s
half-lit memories in full-lit afternoons. Peering into
moments of your life through skewed half-truths. 
Like a tourist who can’t afford the real estate. 

I spent 12 months forgetting your voice, 
but the muscles around my mouth still
remember how to smile. I’d call at
1, 2, 3 a.m., but I never had the chance
to hear you fall asleep on the other end. 

A side effect of self-fulfillment is the lack
of attention to detail. 

I could be the E in your ABCs, 
but I’d have to let go of my
bitterness. And you would
have to remember
to call me back.

About the Artist

Emily Gadzinski is a senior printmaking and environmental studies major at Western Michigan University. Emily works part time on an assembly line and full time on creative projects. She has one cat, one car and two pairs of glasses.