It's a bird! It's a plane! It's a rocket? It's a
It's a meteor. It's huge, and it's coming. It's too late to do anything.
It's inescapable. It's death.
It's my childhood, rushing back to me.
It's the smell of grass and an old trampoline.
It's the feel of his slimy dog tongue. It's the sound of my mother's laugh.
It's the sound of my mother's cries. It's my voice deepening, seemingly overnight.
It's my pants not being long enough. It's my pants not being wide enough.
It's my first kiss. It's my second kiss. It's my third! It's my first heartbreak.
It's the crying on my parents' bed, counting by threes.
It's doing anything to keep from thinking about her.
It's my pants still not being wide enough. It's my sweet, sweet discovery of sweatpants.
It's the hours spent waiting for something to change.
It's the moment that waiting ends and living begins.
It's the dulling of pain as time passes.
It's the dreams that bring the pain back, unbidden, unwanted.