by Alyssa Pilecki ’20
i write from a place of
utter d e s p a i r,
so cold
so fragile
dark and desolate
no one around me
no one to save me
from the ruthless thoughts,
oh, these cold, hard,
never-ending thoughts,
of my own creation
and of others’,
clawing away at my very soul.
i foolishly,
desperately, hopelessly hope for
a kind hand to pull me out,
for a stranger to greet me with a warm smile,
only to grasp thin air and
see that lovely smile fade away
i fall into an abyss of helplessness.
i feel the life drain out of me
slowly, but surely.
no one will find me.
i write from a place of
JOY
You know,
that sunshiney,
yellow honey,
big hot air balloon-ey
feeling
of soaring high above the clouds
on a brisk summer day.
of hugging Momma
until you get her smell
ingrained into your brain forever
(surely, it will never be lost.)
of the sweet, sweet nectar
of life,
oozing into every corner
every nook
every cranny
every inch
of my mind
and my hand
JOY deserves the capital letters.
i write from a place of
oblivion
an empty
nameless
neutral place,
this is the most fleeting feeling of them all.
i am
blissfully unaware
of both my privilege
and my deprivation
i write just to write,
unconscious of what is happening
in the world around me
this is the most phenomenal feeling of them all.
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