Sunday, August 8, 2021
Illustration of tow men with connected bodies talking on chord phones and wrapped in the chords.
Artwork by Jack Matthew Heard


I think about you at night, when I’m tossing and
turning, and I can’t sleep

The memories come fast, playing on the inside of my

eyelids like a projector

But memories can change

Can’t they

They’re selective, highlighting certain parts like rose-

colored glasses

Like the one of you, sitting in your heels, painted toes

down, glass by your hand

Always within reach

I watched you for hours

You were such a mess, but it was all


To me and only me

It was beautiful

Or the one in the parking lot, frigid cold and misting


Freezing in our crop tops and skinny jeans

Makeup running down your face, eyes blurred

“Where’s my phone? Where’s—”

“I have it, let’s go,” I repeat over and over again

I followed you around checking on you

Watching your drink, counting the cans

Holding everything for you

Letting you drink too much so I could

Take care of you, be what you needed, show you

I cared

Too much

That with me you could be safe

That I’d never hurt you

But you were never safe, you couldn’t be

What was I thinking

Why is everything always so fucked up

In one way or another

When it’s never intended

To be

Why are we never content?

Always wanting what we can’t have

Always wishing we were something else

Always missing something

A desire that has too many names

Or none at all

Numb it all


I can’t stand the feeling.