what it feels like to stand in the same coffee shop i did 4 years ago:

i look over to the tall wooden table and see a younger me
sitting cross legged, smiling up at you.
we’re skipping school to eat ham sandwiches.

my shoulders instinctively clench
from the weight of a hundred terrible memories.

but it’s comforting to squeeze the flimsy plastic
of my iced coffee cup
and smell the drink that’s so familiar to me now.

and your hand on my back
reminds me i’m safe now.