Now I look back at how things
went South
& think, Coexistence became
Coexhaustion. A tradition
of silence entered blood
& the distance between Heart and I
was cold cut steel; a clean
& colorless procedure, pamphlet
microdermabrasion that smoothed my lines
& paled all my scars.
The misdiagnosis of a life as wound
was stripping,
removal of oil and water,
cauterized like a root crushed.
See, Eden sinks to grief & realizes how
tiring it is
to stand for so long. East of Eden
there is perfection unfound;
West, there was me.
Now, I carve this poem on the back of
a turtle & set them off
North. It is poems all the way down
& it is simple.
I had been waiting for the person who would change my life.
Why was I waiting for myself.
by Chloe Low
Chloe Low is a second year student at University of California, Irvine studying English and Literary Journalism. Chloe lives in Northern California and enjoys fresh fruit.