by Maya Hersh
The sad girl
sits in her own mess,
and reads nonsense.
Outside, the sun shines and the birds chirp
She thinks about wings,
and their increased potential for falling.
Inside, the air is still
and full of other people’s noise.
The bookcase is crooked, and read through
too many times to offer
The cat is asleep.
She remains so stubbornly, no matter how many times
the sad girl
tries to wake her up.
The clock turns itself around
Everything is ending.
The sad girl used to think entropy was beautiful,
but now she understands it better.
The floor is hot lava but the couch
The shower is safe, but only if she closes her eyes
the whole time.
She does that a lot these days.
There is no solace in the dark, but still
she keeps going back.
The sad girl used to hurt herself
but now she is too tired.
She thinks about gravity, and its potential
listens to silence,
turns another page without reading it.