You're going to see a mango and remember
when you were younger you would sit on that limestone wall and shuck the skin of the mango off with a little knife stolen from the kitchen
with your best friend Sydney
you accidentally fell in love with.
You're going to read a book about a man whose wife left him in the dust on a holiday
and be reminded of Thomas the brother you never had
who moved to Arizona
and had a shitty boyfriend that walked out on him
You're going to be shopping in the mall with your new boyfriend you cheated on with Michael and see your ex best friend's younger sister Jenna shopping for a pair of fake Birkenstocks
realizing you hadn't talked to her for years and she's three times taller and three times prettier than you remember. And then how you screwed up her older sister Cristina’s sense of trust
because you stole her boyfriend you knew she didn't really like.
You're going to see something blue and silver and remember the school you abandoned
because abortions aren't only for the body
and being ejected from everything you knew into a new small town
because a reputation is something written on a stone tablet.
If you run far enough away from it, it’s irrelevant.
Every time October 27th rolls around you think of Sydney and Michael (your childish boyfriend at the time who you didn’t really like, mostly because he had a dick) because on that day a few years ago you went to school and held your tongue throughout all of chemistry and didn't cry a single tear because you know damn well
people don’t change.
Cristina Port is 18 and lives in Rochester, Minnesota