things I don't miss about California by Brooke Nind

I don’t miss the relentless sun hitting my face,
the perpetual squinting because I refuse
to wear sunglasses & I don’t miss driving on the 101
with my hands clenching the steering wheel,
turning up the music to drown out the noise
of hundreds of cars whizzing past, sliding across lanes &
I don’t miss the man who slammed the door of my favorite
Mexican restaurant in my face that one time
& I don’t miss tiptoeing up the stairs or shutting
doors quietly & I don’t miss that it barely ever rains
but when it does it floods and everybody complains
and can’t figure out how to drive & I don’t miss
my neighbor’s dog that barked every morning
& I don’t miss sitting in traffic to then sit
in the 45 minute In-N-Out line & I don’t miss
Los Angeles because why build a city that’s not walkable
& I don’t miss the heat, how it hangs in the air and
never leaves, wrapping tightly around pinking skin &
I don’t miss the ocean because I’m scared of it
and maybe I want to be landlocked & I don’t miss
my father because we only communicate on a loop
in the language of insults and screaming matches,
& I don’t miss the brown hills surrounding us for miles,
always in the foreground overlapping as if I’d never leave
or see anything green again.