Tue, 8:41p.m.
- Phoebe Robertson
- Oct 9
- 1 min read
For Ali
It was something about it,
Just sitting there—
cat curled into a comma
against my thighs,
fridge humming
softly
in the background.
You said
you’re sorry
for upsetting me.
And I replied,
I’m only upset
because I—
care.
Really care.
Too much, maybe.
And if you told me to run,
to throw myself
from the overpass
on State Highway 1,
because you needed me
at the bottom—
I would go.
No hesitation.
I would do anything
you wanted.