What We Say With Words

The last time I saw Violet was a week before her I think I need help texted. It was my third time seeing her at the club. 

We were behind the curtains, and she wanted to read me a poem she wrote on her phone. She said I had to hear it in her voice. She has a slight southern drawl that you don't usually expect from a person from Indiana. 

I tilted my head close to hers so I could hear her over the music. It was a poem about being in a troubled relationship and knowing the right choice, but not knowing why she stays.

Her poem reminded me of the Silverstein song Massachusetts—about knowing the right choice and still not being able to make it.

Violet is friendly with Sugar, another dancer at the club. She said Sugar was only eighteen, but she lies and tells customers she is twenty. But what was really concerning to both of us was Sugar's actions.

I think Violet doesn't want Sugar to go down the wrong road. Something Violet has had experience with. 

I still haven't heard from Violet, although I have a feeling at some point I will. I'm not reaching out. I'm thinking about going to the club on Friday or Saturday. I don't expect to see Violet there, but I can check to see if Sugar has heard from her and exchange numbers.