spring cleaning

  when my little brother spent the night he threw the pillows and blankets on the floor
before he left     when I put them back on the couch     the room felt hollow so I threw them
back on the floor

some chasms are wider than others

  this city is large    and so are the windows     exploding rainbow electric light onto the pale gray
of the sheets

draped across the gap     left in your absence

  not a gulf anymore but a divot in the street    the hill by your house is not so steep anymore and
I can see the bottom top and middle   all at once

the sun is leaking through the wide net   I cast to outrun   your heart still beating in spite of it all

i get attached to everything and everyone that has ever happened to me but at this moment   i
can't bring myself to feel past   my toes in the sheets    softer at 6 am than the night before

do you still shop at the same stores  and buy the same shampoo you yelled at me for wasting

my brother's voice is in this house now instead
   remember he's turning 20 soon   he never liked you and there are parts of my childhood I do
and do not miss   but you are there    and he is here

flowers are growing in the front yard out the window     in the light you tried to swallow down
and extinguish      your body will be 22 this year    your mind (i'm unsure)

i really should change the sheets.

back to issue

Lauren Kells is a graduate of Lipscomb University with an English major. She presented her poetry collection, same ball of light at Sigma Tau Delta's 2023 International Conference and her work has been published in Periphery Art and Literary Magazine, Applause Journal, The Passionfruit Review, and Quibble Lit, and is forthcoming in Apricity Magazine and Wizards in Space Literary Magazine. When she's not writing poetry, she enjoys traveling the world, reading, and cooking and baking. One of her greatest dreams in life is to pet every cat in the world.