by Molly Gerrity, ’16
I am ill
Pallid with the stain of your misguided attention
Like flowers in the winter, soft petals made to be hard and frozen in the snow
I can’t call it bad.
But it’s certainly wrong.
And I need to rest my head on something new
This day is full of traffic and headaches
Slowly permeating my every last breath
My heart is pushing against my ribcage
I am too fragile
And these sheets smell of you
Making it impossible to sleep in this bed
I am consumed
But the north star won’t guide you home
Or make you feel alive and raw, just like I do
So I skip past these moments and hope that it will be okay
Every time you float by
But you’re like the sea; I can’t keep holding on.
I am lost at sea
Confused by these waves and
I do not know
In what object I’d like to drown myself in
Vodka, love, the sea?
Vodka numbs the pain, yes
But it goes too far; I forget how to feel
Love is no longer real to me (thanks mom and dad)
And the sea would just bring me back to shore.
No, I think
I’d much rather fall apart
In your magnetic gaze
Your tangled hair
Your wandering hands
And your warm neck
You make people want to drown for you,
Because you are charged
Something of a rescuer
An odd bit of driftwood in stormy waters
Something real, constant
I think that I would still want you on the bottom of the ocean
And I can’t decide if that’s a blessing
Or a nightmare
Molly Gerrity is a freshman who loves positive intersectionality, coffee, feminism, and people. She occasionally writes poetry for fun.