Coralville Public Library's Teen Zine
Swinging by Caitlin
Lean back.
Lean forward.
Tuck..
Untuck.
The familiar pattern takes me back.
Back into my childhood.
Back to when my father was actually
like a father.
And not some man who was
never there.
Back to when I knew what
happiness
was.
Wind blows through my hair and
invades
my senses, bringing back old memories
of when daddy was teaching me
how to swing.
I stop moving my legs,
and let myself come to a stop
on the little yellow swing.
And all of a sudden, I'm crying.
Crying for me.
Crying for him.
Crying for her.
Crying for my dad.
Crying for it all.
The wind blows again.
The leaves rustle.
And I stop crying.
Pause.
Listen.
Breathe..
I can smell the
autumn air.
Smell the salt water on my
cheeks.
Looking up at the
cloudy sky,
I can see that the
clouds are moving quickly,
mimmicking my mind.
My thoughts are all focused on
one specific person.
The one I love.
The one I miss.
The one I need..
I can't not think about him.
Ever.
It's like he's a tattoo I can't
remove.
He'll be there forever.
I can already tell you that
much.
He's the reason I live.
The reason I breathe.
The reason I'm here.
The reason I'm not gone.
The reason I
love.
And the reason I'm
swinging.