by Sophie Larvick
justice for (fill in the blank)
there she is.
you’ve been looking for her all night and you are very tired
but what you were looking for is sitting on the front stoop of your house
looking miserable
her left hand gripping bombay sapphires
and they sparkle the same way
and she is choking it, like weeds do
but you know just from looking
that you’re the real parasite
every time you turn around, there she is.
the girl at the party, crying in the bathroom
the girl with shady eyes that you walked past on your way to school
who could not meet your gaze
“why did she look so uncomfortable?”
you thought
that day you asked your friends if you intimidated people
you do not
there she is again.
you two always seem to be walking in the same direction now
you can feel her eyes on you
her friends’ and lovers’ eyes on you
some days you think that the whole world is staring up and down, up and down your spine.
but finally, here you are. the cat got out of the bag, and you couldn’t catch it if you tried.
hope it’s your last
i hope it haunts you
o.i.d.
tasting rye bread for the second time today
two times too many
can’t stand rye bread
but when i taste it the second time, i think of you
of how it was all for you
of the bone-breaking contortions
of the descent
of the new world
of my grandmother, yelling
“oh, the humanity!”
my double-sided toothbrush- yes the one you hear about all the time- well no, dear, this isn’t about that
maybe it is
if not, i think it would be about the broken glass i cut my hand on last night
while trying to fix my mirror
it would be about my mirror and how we used to stand in front of it together
because the two of us just looked so nice on each other
i looked a bit better then
you probably did too
i don’t really remember and i haven’t seen you in a while, so i guess i wouldn’t know
but it really isn’t all that important
just as long as we both know we don’t miss each other
i don’t spend as much time with my mother’s guitar as i did at the beginning
or at the end
i have been seeing the notebook more though
and with my memory now, the thesaurus
i have been looking around more when i go for a walk
i didn’t forget anything- it can just be good to remind
but it all reminds
the burnt down house, the elementary school, the sunrise, the birds
god, the birds
what did you say about them?
i didn’t really forget that part either
i just want to hear it again
even though it wasn’t really funny
requiem for a child queen
been thinking about highway overpasses
dandelion seeds
my beaten-down front porch
and wildflowers in the soccer field
violas, peonies, and trilliums
in the backyard
and just a few months ago i was living a life so different that i’m now nostalgic of it
driving in the countryside
angry and confused
sleepwalking, sleeptalking
lying dormant, literally
i don’t miss it
i don’t really miss any of my past
but if i could put together a puzzle
of one scene
i would pick one of those summer days that seemed to drag on and on
albums and picture books
on and on
the dusty attic
on and on
rain on the sidewalk
cigarette butts on the playground
soft, blond hair
adjective, adjective noun
noun preposition article noun noun preposition
on and on
hush
it’s more freeing to take it all less seriously
which makes you right
it’s just
not that deep
but the gnats in the cocktails have sunk deep
then it’s night, and staring into that depth makes my head hurt
because it means i’m there,
trying my very, very best not to drown again
it is an inky and crushing emptiness, and i am seeing rainbows on the tiles of the bathroom floor
you were right
you were right
you were right
and i’m sorry
on and on
but there are holes poked through the top to breathe
on and on and on
the world when it was worth living in was a soft and hazy chunk of space and time
that i don’t remember much of
snow globes, music boxes, teddy bears, ducklings
there was a time when i heard weight in the sentence, “forgive me, father, for i have sinned”
and now, once there are things to apologize for
it is meaningless
"THE WORLD WHEN IT WAS WORTH LIVING IN
WAS A SOFT AND HAZY CHUNK OF SPACE AND TIME"
poetry by Sophie Larvick, illustration by Isabella Brown and Lila Hudgins
Lovely work Lila