Poetry

My adrenaline levels this week are:

1. like seeping eczema waiting to be soothed and healed

2. like the point of tension when you try to snap multiple twigs in half

3. like a festering open wound that is asking the scalpel to be merciful

4. like the clamped jaws of a dog hiding something and doesn’t want to let go

5. like the stooping point of a whirlwind musical score score that finally releases the audience’s anticipation from its greedy grasp

My joy in being so close to graduating soon is like:

1. finally being able to let go of a stifled breath

2. the feeling of taking off on a plane after a long but steady wait

3. revisiting the person you truly are at your core

4. the purifying and cleansing feeling of a hot shower after a long day of work

5. the relief in dropping a heavy weight you got so used to holding onto

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“Writing is about trust.” — Claudia Castro Luna

“A poem has never told me, ‘You don’t belong here.’”