The Version I Never Touched

-
They fumbled her
like something borrowed
like something they assumed
would still be there
after they dropped it
and it was
that’s the part that gets me
not that they messed up
people mess up all the time
it’s that they got the chance
to--
to see her laugh in real time
to hear her talk about nothing
and make it feel like something
they got access
to the version of her
I only ever met
through fragments--
stories
moments
echoes of what she was
before she learned to guard it
and I sit here
piecing her together
like a secondhand memory
thinking
how do you stand in front of something like that
and treat it like it’s replaceable?
how do you look at someone
who shines that quietly
and decide
“this is enough to neglect”
I’m not saying I would’ve been perfect
I would’ve had my flaws
my blind spots
my own ways of getting it wrong
but I would’ve known
I would’ve known
what I was holding
and maybe that’s the real weight of it
not that they broke something
but that they were trusted
with something whole
and I never even got
to touch it
and now
now she’s behind walls
built from things
I had nothing to do with
and I don’t want them gone
I just wish
there was a door
or even a crack
something that says
“you can"

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