Ginny Lee
There was a dawn
When freight trucks rumbled by my window
When time felt like discarded coins
In an abandoned arcade
I pushed my hand into my chest
To keep it all in
My soul, I mean
“It’s leaving me.
So what,
So shit.”
I thought about many things
As I held tightly
To the balloon string
That grounded that
Wretched, unsaved
Soul
About how
No one had an inherent need for me in their
Bodies
Because they were born in water
Not fire
A vision of our clothes becoming dated
As he begins to stoop
The hand of someone’s daughter
Pressed to my ear
Asking if I hear the ocean
I don’t
How I’m so sorry
That you met me on a hollow day
Back when my head was so full of cotton
You could’ve plucked it out
From my ears
How badly I wanted a face that belonged to me
To take ownership of it
I thought about when I was 18
And she said she was scared
And guilty
And I couldn’t breathe
And all the while
My soul bloomed
It’s buoyancy taking it
All the way up to the ceiling
The sound of the trucks outside made me feel sick
But when I talked to you,
You felt like
A friend
And somehow that felt better
The thought of meeting
Years down the line
Where enough time has passed
That you will seem tall
All over again
Then my soul felt heavy enough
That it sank down slowly
So as not to be crushed under
An oceanic pressure
And it felt okay
That I didn’t know who God was
Or how I didn’t say anything to him
When he walked past my locker
Before he died
How she touched his hair in the first row of the theater
Twirled the arrow
At the nape of his neck
The notion of a picture
That some kid will look at
Their friend, looking over their shoulder, will say
“You look like her”
And the kid will feel good
On the inside
The soul sank to the ground then
Till it too could feel the rumblings
Of the passing trucks
Outside
It was up to me to grab it
“A strange decision,” I thought.
“So what,
So shit.”
I couldn’t help but laugh
Creating my own rumbles
From my shaking, soulless ribs
Maybe we are just diced peaches
Suspended
In a cough syrup-flavored jello
A twisted rendition of
The plum pudding model
The soul heard my thoughts
Over the traffic of freight trucks
It smirked and quipped
So what,
So shit
I grabbed it by its
Thin balloon string
And pushed a hand into my chest.
Ginny Lee is a senior studying Radio/Television/Film and environmental sciences. She thinks chocolate mashed potatoes can be a thing. If you just change your way of thinking. It can work.