There are many things I love about Harrisburg, but the one thing I currently appreciate is how you never know what might happen as you walk down the street. Sometimes this takes on a negative meaning, as catcallers still exist (and still have not figured out that their actions are
Pull the band taut, Pull it back, flick it, Don’t be surprised when it creaks Under the might of your fingers. The more you pull me, the less I can give, The less I can stretch, The less I can live. I’ve come to terms with my Lack of elasticity,
Remember, remember. It’s weird, but it’s much easier to remember the negative anniversaries over the positive ones — which is an irony in itself, since the go-to phrase is “happy anniversary”. Not everyone is so lucky. Some people are routinely surrounded by unhappy anniversaries. It’s not an active choice. Even
Stop Worrying About being a friend, And being accepted as a friend, And friendships unraveling before you as a roll of ribbon, And you try to put it back together neatly and the way it was before but once unwound the ribbon doesn’t take, Doesn’t want to take, never wanted
A new year means another twelve months of trying to get things done in a timely fashion. A new year means trying to perform improv without being in my head. A new year means shmoozing with people I have no idea how to shmooze with. A new year means having
It starts with a tightness: You wake to feel your heart Coming out of your chest, As if manipulated by some unseen force– And that is what you believe, If only for a moment, As you’re sprinting down the hall, Legs caught up in bedsheets, Slowly embarrassing yourself into stopping
“What am I in the eyes of most people – a nonentity, an eccentric, or an unpleasant person – somebody who has no position in society and will never have; in short, the lowest of the low. All right, then – even if that were absolutely true, then I should
White-knuckled moments, Rapid eye movements, Too many measuring cups, Not enough trust. The list is smeared, The counter a mess, I spent too much time And I made too much fuss. Into the bowl, now, The shell breaks apart, And it’s pooling, impossible, Spoiled. If I can’t do this properly,
Sammi Leigh Melville 