Matt Borczon

The year my father lost his job


I was


the hallways

of my

high school

all winter

to get

ready for

track season


I was

always either

the slowest

of the

fast kids

or the

fastest of

the slow

ones but

I didn’t

really care

about track

or who

was fastest


I just

didn’t want

to go

home that

year my

mother never

spoke above

a whisper

our house

was silent

as a grave


and I

was only

running really

just training

to get


for a

future I

felt was

coming hard

and heavy


and certain

as the




Old girlfriend


I still
calling you
by phone
in the
middle of
the night
just to
hear your
voice in
high school
it was
an exquisite
kind of
pain I
sought like
God when
I was

I thought
of this
as I
ignored your
friend request
unsure if
I wanted
to smile
or cry.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s