You came on over to play, in my backyard like we always did.
Hunting in the bushes behind the house, for wildebeest.
We ran through the woods to see who could get their cloths the dirtiest.
My red dress turned a dark shade of purple, your jeans a dark blue with green smudges.
We run back to my house, hoping that my mom wouldn’t notice us.
You tell me to wait here, you have something special to show me, you said.
I waited and when you returned you carried a glass pickle jar.
You catch another caterpillar, and promised me you would set it free later.
The sky above us cracked and rain poured down on us, soaking our clothes in a instant.
We were standing on the back porch, smiling nervously.
You kissed me on the lips, my first kiss and it felt like it lasted for hours.
But then you told me you were moving that afternoon to a new home far away, you ran away and couldn’t look back.
The next day I checked to see if you were there, you were gone, and I found the pickle jar still closed.
The caterpillar died and you broke your promise.
I sat at the kitchen table, thinking about you and the caterpillar that never grew into a butterfly.
Staring at the fridge I noticed we were just like two magnets that wanted to meet but kept pushing each other away, but always rotating around one another.
My mom picked the the magnet that represented you and placed a note underneath it.
‘Buy pickles.’ It said.
Hunting in the bushes behind the house, for wildebeest.
We ran through the woods to see who could get their cloths the dirtiest.
My red dress turned a dark shade of purple, your jeans a dark blue with green smudges.
We run back to my house, hoping that my mom wouldn’t notice us.
You tell me to wait here, you have something special to show me, you said.
I waited and when you returned you carried a glass pickle jar.
You catch another caterpillar, and promised me you would set it free later.
The sky above us cracked and rain poured down on us, soaking our clothes in a instant.
We were standing on the back porch, smiling nervously.
You kissed me on the lips, my first kiss and it felt like it lasted for hours.
But then you told me you were moving that afternoon to a new home far away, you ran away and couldn’t look back.
The next day I checked to see if you were there, you were gone, and I found the pickle jar still closed.
The caterpillar died and you broke your promise.
I sat at the kitchen table, thinking about you and the caterpillar that never grew into a butterfly.
Staring at the fridge I noticed we were just like two magnets that wanted to meet but kept pushing each other away, but always rotating around one another.
My mom picked the the magnet that represented you and placed a note underneath it.
‘Buy pickles.’ It said.
