DEAR BACKYARD.

You're pretty cool, I guess, especially when you wear those tights like sleeves and forget that they are really too tight for you and that your arms are not supposed to stick backwards and it's really hurting and you're screaming because how can you get them off if your fingers don't work like that? I'm sorry I hurt you, but you aren't sorry you stepped on my foot that one time and you have never forgave yourself, because there was nothing to forgive, for the fact that you sort of tore my heart and that hurt. And my internet isn't working and I'm telling you because I know you'll ask why I'm doing this, when it's against everything I've ever done for you. And the fact that you told me I looked better from the back rather than from the front and that didn't hurt, because I've heard it before. Plus it was one of those few things you were honest with me about. I used to go around keeping a tally of the lies you fed me on my fingers in the palm of my hand, but after I realized I couldn't eat cake without using both my hands I stopped. And I stopped. I saw you puking that first time, and you saw me sawing you from under your purple eyelashes because it's your favourite colour ever and you told me that so many times I wanted to shove it up your nose so it would come out your eyes. I put that fake ring on your finger the first time on the third, and you know the year so I won't bother putting it here. You kept it on because you like how it made friction against your knuckle when you bent it to write. I just liked the shape. It was a diamond, but when you bent your fingers back I wanted it to pierce your skin, because then I knew you would love it most. I remember that one time, there was only one time with us, when the internet was fluctuating and you kept your eyes on that triangle like it was your job. And I watched that temper tantrum of yours, when you clawed off those tights because we knew all was wrong but you said it first, and when you looked at me your eyes were kaleidoscopes with hatred and you ripped the biggest hole in your tights but you didn't care, you just found it easier to take them off than on. Then you put on my shirt and we called it a day, but you didn't punch out like you should have. We kept working because that was what you called it that night under the bright halogen lights. It was just something we both had to do. That great ugly necklace you wore made your spine stand out and I saw how skinny your legs were but you didn't want me too so I looked away but I could see them through your hate. Your dress stuck to the back of your back and the front of your front that day, but we had too many other things to look at so I didn't really think much of it that time around. You asked me what your grade would have been and I said it didn't matter, you flunked anyways, and that made your face light up so bright I wanted to take it back. Those rain boots you were wearing, you said were a memory, but it wasn't. It was just a sign. I passed by it and didn't even see it.

I HATE YOU.

Maybe the first time I saw you was in first grade or two days before I left or five after I came back. Maybe I saw you from the back first, or you collided with my shoulder but I was so focused on getting to the keg that I couldn't care less. But either way I saw you tonight and I knew you saw me too because we jolted together like you put your hand over mine and we plugged in that missing cable together but it was in the dark and our fingers just wanted to feel alive and you kissed my fingertips like you should have. You just knew what to do. The tips of my braids was a mustache, I pretended and I asked how you could have driven here because I saw you get out of your car, so you said maybe my name was Rip Van Wrinkle, but I didn't take it. I didn't because you expected me too. And you asked where my scars came from and I laughed when your brows came together, but not knotted because that word is used too often. I pointed them out all together to you and you paid close attention and breathed in all the right places, really deeply and then not at all and said the word, when I touched your stomach, the one I deserved to hear in all my dirty glory. With my frizzy hair and my deep deep eyes. Your hair came really low over your eyes, and there were circles underneath and they were laughing even though you weren't and it was my mission, because I was your secret agent, to spark the flying humor in them. You were like my computer, starting up in the morning, revealing yourself little by little. Until you were all there, and I liked it, but then you froze and I had to start you up again. I didn't really like that. And I clicked on that page before you were ready, so you exploded, having too many things going on at once wasn't so good for you, was it? You still followed me when my loud boots my friend told me I wasn't supposed to wear led us upstairs and there we were. You said nature but no, I shook my head and said supernatural. And you must have agreed because that was what it felt like.

I WANT YOU BACK.

I think you knew all the words that I wanted to hear, but they wouldn't come out in the right context or you butchered the pronunciation and then you face dropped because you wanted scorn, and I spoon fed you laughter, right from my bottle. That wasn't good enough for you, I suppose. My ear was your favourite course to eat and I haven't forgotten about it, because it was what you ate every day for years. I think. My red marker ran out of ink before I could continue, but I have this indention, like old lady ears, when the hole has expanded to a line and it's so rotten, how can they stand to look at it? I don't know either. I do know how you felt and you say no, that's impossible, because no one has given you words for it before, and here I am and how can I be different? I can't, my god I can't. I can dig you out in the backyard when you slip and get lose though but why would I do that when you can't find the trowel even though I pointed it out to you. I guess you don't look close enough. You think someone will be there and hand it to you and say no problem, even when the words thank you didn't come close to exiting your mouth. My insides came loose to unraveling when you touched them, you liked your fingers being that powerful and knowing what to do, but only in your mind, not mine. It was ok for a while until you thought that your brain was smart enough to know what to do, and who to do, and that's really funny even though I don't know why. It wasn't and I forgave you for a while until I remembered I actually hadn't, you had just seen that person point it out to you and feed you the directions on that piece of paper that tasted like butter, and the words thank you didn't come close to entering your brain to come out your mouth.

I LIKED YOU BETTER QUIET.

We could have each other, you said to me. You could wear my ring inside your finger like those actresses do on TV but come on, who is stupid enough to fall for that, especially since this fake thing is so big i can't bend my finger to change the channel. Controlling it was best for you, and I said no, but you were there when I wasn't. Here but not all here, you laughed like a maniac and I let you do it until your path was too close to the edge and I pulled back running but you kept coming spitting. I sent a ranger after you, even those it was a phone call, and you just laughed like it was what you did coming out of the womb, like you hadn't been raised to do different, even though I was told you had been. How can I know if you only bring me close on that zip line to let go on a second thought and I'm sent hurtling back to where I came from for you to close your eyes and then open it and say ok baby, I'm ready for other shot but it's not up for you, ok? I'm the one that gives and retrieves those arrows to those apples. You wouldn't be strong enough to pull it out, you'd only push it in deeper and wait, laughing, until I died and maybe then the sadness would hit you and then maybe not, depends on the feeling and maybe if anyone was around to witness it, funny how that goes.

I CAN'T SAY NOTHING TO YOU.

Dear backyard,

If you turned on me and the plants started watering themselves, I'd just say Huh, look at that, not go screaming into the house. You can't take that chance though, reveal your secrets to me, and I guess that's why I go outside everyday with my big forest green watering can and that blue powder that I'm supposed to use, says the men who know everything, but secretly it doesn't make a difference.

Sincerely,

Look to your left for once.