By Jaclyn // [email protected]
A/N: Written by flashlight during a power outage.
as if all these things matter. as if
it means something to be lying here in
the dark with the electricity fizzled
out and the air heavy with stillness and heat.
she feels like her shadow in the mirror is
bigger than the rest of her:
the impressions she makes, her footprints
in the back of people's minds;
these things she leaves behind--
baggage, perhaps manufactured
out of another need, different baggage,
weighing her down.
her pen sounds oddly fitful, scratching
almost frantically against the paper now that
the computer has simplified into a dull, empty
box, a meaningless construct of smooth black-beige.
her hand jerks across the curves of the
letters, uncomfortable, longing for worn keys that
have molded themselves to her fingers, unfurling a steady rhythm,
a brittle clacking, a single-instrument symphony
that--if she is lucky, if the symphony has
written itself with crescendos and a pitch that
feel right to her stomach's tight clench--
Make me smile :: [email protected]