86/365: Bondage and Escape

I listened to the music from my fifteenth summer,
and I was the girl with goose-pimpled knees again,
picking at the frayed edge of her jean shorts again,
thumb in her fabric-covered journal
where she left off telling it why again:
why this, why that,
why this was her last summer,
why there was no love left for her,
why her insides were hollowed out in 1981
and scattered from the back of a station wagon,
left dribbling out along the weedy ditches and oiled roads.
She postulated and formulated,
she made math of her history,
she managed her heart like a treatable condition.
She wept into a scratchy, war-era blanket
and pondered bondage and escape.

#365poems at Schmutzie.com