because because because goodbye goodbye goodbye

I always turn the lights off before pulling

open the frazzle that runs

in electric currents between my shirts.

I want to watch the sparks

hidden against the fabric

open into breath

as I tug apart black

long sleeve athletic shirt

& blue long sleeve

basketball shirt

& green long sleeve

hiking shirt.

does everything

spark like these shirts

when peeled open?

there must be something static

in the air

because nowadays

it feels like every hair

is sticking up straight

like there’s a storm

coming

& it’s mouthing

open the horizon into

pow pow pow &

fraying,

I freewrite

instead of calling,

writing good god

good god I am

tired goddammit.

writing here I am

working

through my eternal

something uhhh

I need a metaphor to hold

my brain

until I reach a point

where I can ease

it back open

except it’s dark in there &

I’m afraid

I’m getting stupider

each day.

sometimes

I need time to catch

my breath. like when the sun

hits the right angle

some unidentifiable

angle some

eternal something

& my shadow

on the sidewalk stretches

like it’s growing away

& I say wait

wait up wait

I’m coming.

that’s what I said

last time too

& it waited

& I never showed.

then came night

& my shadow vanished

& while finally standing there

waiting for my eyes

to adjust

I pulled apart clothing,

long sleeve shirts,

watching the sparks

tugging open

everything I loved

& am trying

to love.

I do love you.

I didn’t call

but I love you,

I do, I swear I say

wait wait up

I am here with the sparks

I just need a second

to get ready

to love you like I should.

sometimes my shadow

confronts me,

asks me why I turn

off the lights

in every room I enter.

why I stress

when my brain

has sagged

into some shape I can’t name,

heaving eternal something.

there’s a metaphor

out there that I am

still looking for.

wait, I tell it.

wait up, I’ve gone

and turned the lights off,

where are you?

If I wanted to be honest

I would say it’s

because I want to see

how far this can tug, how long

you’ll wait up for me,

how long it’ll take

until the

sparks start

to pull pow pow pow

undoing everything into bursts

of light deep

in this dark room,

eyes closed.

I want to see if I can

say goodbye

and get away

with not meaning it,

see if you’ll come back anyways

like I want you to.

if the sparks will show,

or, if one day, I’ll turn off the lights

& it’ll stay dark

& I’ll whisper pow pow pow

into the silence

with no one to call

or, worse,

no one who picks up.

instead

I say I love you

I love you. it’s all true.

& look, my mouth is

becoming a dark room

pow pow pow

my words are busy tugging

at the

sharp inhale

of light.

Kyla Guimaraes is a writer from New York City and a freshman at Yale University. Her work can be found in SUNHOUSE Literary, The Shore, HAD, and elsewhere.