My life is like a box of
Graded pencils, with
Sharp, silver strokes to
Write numbers and
Names, and soft, grey
In-betweens to fill in
Empty spaces, when
The contrast doesn’t
Do art justice, and
Bold, hungry, black
Slashes, my darkling
Drawls
Of confidence.
– Emily White
And I took all the words you
Said, and wrapped them over and
Over, around each other, and
Twisted and turned them until they
Fit into the spaces between thin
Air, and I took all your frowns and
Smiles, and put them into glass
Vials, arranged height-wise, on
My wall, and stared at them, hoping,
That one day, your words would
Appear through gusty winds, and your
Snarky smile would burst out of a
Tiny glass vial and maybe,
Maybe, I would smile right back.
In-Between 