it is New Year’s Eve
and I am pouring sweet and sour dreams down the drain,
wrinkling my nose at the syrupy scent of vinegar hope that
I forgot to check at the door when I first
felt sophomore year crawling up my insides
to stream down my eyes in fear.
fear: deathbeds in holiday lights,
fear: my sutures splitting open to reveal the abhorrent chasm
of loneliness grasping for a rope,
fear: why don’t they LOVE ME LOVE ME LOVE
alone at the sink.
clearing plates of sticky rice with a cluttered mind
replaying two years of history because
she isn’t here to stop the weight hovering in drooping snow skies.
her family is forgetting reality in the tides.
so, I’ll write my New Year’s resolution
listening to the spin of clothes in Tide.
I hope that I will hold out
for one more sullen start to a year,
one where authenticity doesn’t equal tears.
By Katelynn Paluch