Katherine S.


On days when walking to your car
Makes loneliness boil in your stomach
Forming stones that will keep you motionless
Pray for a butterfly to land on your finger
But keep walking
Don’t stop until you are at your car and pray again

Hesitate— hand almost touching key
Look in the reflection of the window
See those things that look like dried up leaves
Well, they’re butterflies
Tiny and multiplying
I wish the stones would float out of me like the rest of them did

Get in car
Turn it on
Jiggle the steering wheel if you need to
Know it’s a good match, me and my car
Rundown, old souls
Notice the butterfly on the windshild
And cry- maybe saddness
Maybe joy
Probably a little bit of both

Feel completly alone
Feel a cold sting settle on your skin
Something I love in moderation

Feel stones, tiny and multiplying, flow up your esophagus
And out of your mouth
It is painful

Hide tears from four-year-olds
Hide tears in an orange uniform

Don’t cry until your shifts over
And remember the butterfly
Hope the stones float away like the rest of them did
Still sad

Remember that mondays are supposed to be good days
Remember why they can't be
but try to have a good one anyway
try to think about the future and weeks instead of years
because it takes more weeks for future to be here
yours make future seem so close
too close
to  sudden
2 isolating
Band-Aids and good intentions
apologies when you don't have something someone else needs

care to the point of love
stick with until the point of NeverEnding dedication
stand right against the line but do not cross it
for I cannot see what’s on the other side

stand up for yourself until the point of Bravery
do not be brave completely
do not be bold completely
but never let anyone know you are not these things

stay confrontational
but do not speak up when
Small Things Are….
big things are…
decide which is more important
I blended both and don’t know where to go

the future is further away if you think of the distance in units of days
more days between me and a break from reality
more minutes between me and finding out if stones will always poor from my mouth
If Tears will fall from my face everytime I walk to my car on a cold day
if my prayers float with the migrating butterflies
I pray
I wish
I hope
that’s one will land on my finger

Jason Carney