by Rouzbeh Rahai
In the winter,
In the winter him and I would drive to the water,
where the ocean’s echo kept us from exchanging the strongest whispers.
“when are you going to start your own family”
Midst the December gloom on our skin,
our breaths spiraled our futures in the air.
He reaches for the cold sand
and watches the wind whistle it away,
as I looked past the water.
Family meant always staying together
And all the family we had
were a family of seashells
our best friends,
and I guess our moms and dads
But ever since we moved away
the promise for togetherness
seems like a promise
only ever made.
Because these days
I find parts of myself turning invisible.
Slowly becoming see-through
as I join in groups
and share drinks
then spike my drink with my dreams
thinking, “Here’s to new beginnings.”
Warm memories with strangers that slide down my throat
I Go home.
Find a quote that I like
feel it spearfish me out of the ocean I’m drowning in,
thinking I’ve been lifted,
I’ve been lifted,
while I’m just searching for warm chests to hide in.
See everyone talks about being homesick like it’s something that’ll go away
but being homesick is also
feeling like a stranger in your own home.
Being brave enough to reach for things that
Just end up going through you.
Family has never felt so far away
And as we sit together in our Toyota 1998,
where stories were made,
I’m smoke and he’s my buddy that never got away.
My vision blurs to tomorrow.
When he might turn to god
as a friend.
But when he reaches to touch a strangers skin
God would say no,
not seeing that
it’s scary being alone,
and so we do things like hold someone’s hand we hardly know.
While the stranger reaches for your arm
under the stars
little known all the scars
running up your red back.
sleep with a beautiful curvy glass bottle in-between their arms.
Some sleep with their old stories
And once ago we drove to where the water starts.
But now these empty bottles,
empty of promises I Clench so hard
shatter in the morning.
here we are broken into pieces.
We are separated,
lost as we stumble and fall
into the arms
of someone new
Rouzbeh Rahai is a third-year English major at UC Davis. He occasionally performs slam poetry at SickSpits, and is very interested in learning more about the art of performing. He loves good writing, his friends, passion in everyday life, road trips and most of all, his sister.
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