whispered

I remember when that boy made fun of my backpack
and that was the first time I held back the tears.
I remember when my sister came to church.
I remember when she loved it.
I remember when my house was pink in the daylight.
I remember when my grandpa pulled me out of the pool by my collar
and I remembered how to breathe.
I remember sitting next to that first boy and forgetting how to breathe.
I remember warm hearts and cold bones.
I remember that long drive when two hearts broke.
I remember Monday morning when I tried to catch your emails in my fingers.
I remember an unexpected phone call and the thing I thought felt like heartbreak.
I remember a text on Wednesday.
I remember a rose on Thursday morning.
I remember the anger
and the sadness on Friday.
I remember a lonely night
and I remember a full journal.
I remember a tight stomach and short texts.
I remember shivering for more reasons than the temperature.
I remember a dusty porch
and awkward silence.
I remember shaking fingers and slow speech.
I remember healing hearts and broken walls.
I remember a hug too long
and then too short.

I remember whispered apologies
and whispered goodbyes.