Polaroid by Fiona Perreault

You brought a Polaroid to school. 

And I knew why 

you were leaving

 You acted as if nothing was happening, but we both knew

You acted as if the scars weren’t there and there wasn’t still a scab from the IV 

You acted as if, come tomorrow, you won’t be on a plane to Missouri

And it hurts,

Knowing that you’re not here and that the last time you saw me I still had a polo shirt on with long, wild hair, that, no matter how hard I tried, ended up a frizzy mess 

It hurts, 

That you didn’t see me getting better 

It hurts, that you weren’t there for the last time we played together.

And it hurts like a deep, festering, wound, that I will never see you again face to face, 

And that I can’t help you in your darkest moments 

It hurts

And you brought a Polaroid to school.