A/N: Apr. 17, 2021. This poem was first published on Aug. 11, 2020. I decided to merge both collections.
My sister called that morning
I couldn't remember the last I heard her voice
Sing-song but with an edge
Honey spills from lips split by heartbreak
Attentive to her lows and highs
How her speech outpaced her breaths
I consoled her in perpetuity, but a
staticky crescendo prevailed
That final click of the receiver
cemented what I already knew.
How could I be so stagnant?
So I decisively attack at the root
Brows teased and pulled
Lashes traced and preened
Moorish wisps of hair trickle down 'til
the face reflected back at me
coyly forces a smile—
My lips part toothily in return
I step out the door with all
my envy tied back in a taut bun
She'll be okay, I whisper
Biting through the stinging April air
I'm okay.
YOU ARE READING
A Meaningless Collection
PoetryA collection of variously themed poems that I write mostly on my commute to class or when I can't find a reason to fall asleep.