the aftertaste of summertime & other myths

god is real & she's hungover & curled over the toilet in

my bathroom. its june & god knows my coffee order but

hasn't said my name in months. september & god picks

me up & we drive down the highway & the air tastes like

blood & its nice until it isn't. until i realise i'm not even in

the car anymore until i'm standing by the road looking at

two strangers in a car speeding at 100; none of them alive.

this is what they don't tell you about dissipating friendships.

sometimes it feels like the end of the world. most times it is.

god & i haven't talked in four years. last week i saw a cat on

the street that looked exactly like the cat she had in fourth

grade. i don't remember god's favourite song anymore but last

night i thought i heard her laugh. most days i write down things

to tell her on post it notes and collect them on my wall just in case

she calls one day. i want to tell her about my boyfriend and his

mom & about this girl i met in class & about my sisters new

school & about my new haircut & about the pancakes i made

this morning & i want to tell her so much & i hope we never talk again.

Written By: Bidisha Dam