<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=468678" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>You Asked How (formerly Even Now She Is Turning, Saying Everything I Always Wanted Her to Say)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">At the end there were straws<br>in her glove compartment, I'd split them open<br>to taste the familiar bitter residue, near the end<br>I ate all her Percodans, hungry to know<br>how far they could take me.<br>A bottle of red wine each night moved her along<br>as she wrote, I feel too much, again and again. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">You asked how and I said, Suicide, and you asked<br>how and I said, An overdose, and then<br>she shot herself, and your eyes filled<br>with wonder, so I added, In the chest, so you<br> wouldn't think<br>her face was gone, and it mattered, somehow,<br>that you knew this. . . </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Every year I'm eight years old and the world<br>is no longer safe. Our phone becomes unlisted, our mail<br>is kept in a box at the post office,<br>and my mother tells me always<br>leave a light on so it seems<br>someone is home. She finds a cop<br>for her next boyfriend, his hair<br>greasy, pushed back with his fingers. He lets me play<br>with his service revolver while they kiss<br>on the couch. Cars slowly fill the windows, and I aim,<br>making the noise with my mouth, in case it's them,<br>and when his back is hunched over her I aim<br>between his shoulder blades, silently,<br>in case it's him.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Nick+Flynn">Nick Flynn</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=468678" data-title="You Asked How (formerly Even Now She Is Turning, Saying Everything I Always Wanted Her to Say) de Nick Flynn" data-description="At the end there were straws in her glove compartment, I'd split them open to taste the familiar bitter residue, near the end I ate all her Percodans, hungry to know how far they could take me. A bottle of red wine each night moved her along as sh..."></div> </div> </div>

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