In the miles from the shore
to my old Kentucky home
I have it in my head
that you hate my guts
and that our friendship will never be the same.

My secret spilled over the perfect grilled cheese pull
and I’ve had it in my head ever since
that you would read between my lines
until you saw things that weren’t there.

All this over two weeks apart.
Something awkward but sincere,
something dead gone and buried.
Something pressed between pages
yet something filled with guilt and shame.