yesterday

on a summer night, i cried

for the fireflies that died

because of me.

six years ago

on a summer night

i caught a few fireflies

and plunged them into a bag.

i let them suffocate

until they weren’t fireflies anymore.

empty corpses descending as i threw them

out.

twelve years ago

on a summer night:

my parents, enraged

dressed me up in rags

and stuffed me in a garbage bag.

i wasn’t their daughter anymore.

they threw me

out, my corpse crunching

and crying

knowing i was empty.

on a summer night i remembered

both of these things at once

so i cried and cried

for the fireflies that died

because of me.