bury me standing under your window, with a cinder block in hand...

today i woke up and looked at the picture stuck to my mirror.

its of the 5 of us, in a photobooth, smiling and laughing.
I peer through my clouded memory, thinking back to the day the picture was taken.

we put 2 loonies ("what a ripoff!") into the machine and manage to snap 4 action shots. 3 minutes of casual shifting and banter and they print.

we walk away.

the day the laughter died.

i peel the photo paper off the mirror, giving it a second glance. i try to muster a want for that feeling of unity again. i try to feel bad that i left us in the dust.

i try to rely on you like i did a long time ago.

tainted.

the picture makes a hollow sound against the bottom of the tin box.

another drop in the pail.

slide on the lid and save it for another day.

i have closure.