Stretch, wings spread wide—pointed eyes—
I am harbinger and horror, inescapable.
Dancing along the edges of your nightmares,
a constant reminder the house will always win
and you are just buying time in the house of God,
but I was a god, filled with unholy hunger.
Rot is my lifeblood, the answer to unasked questions.
I am the promise your mother made that May,
eyes half-closed and half-dead, looking beyond—
ash to ash, we’ll all return to this sacrilegious soil
and I’ll be your guide, ungentle hand on your shoulder,
circling and spiraling to make myself clear.
This is just one a thousand ends, a thousand meals,
and still not nearly as cruel as that unfeeling suit—
at least my intentions are clear and concise
and I only ask for your life, not your honor or pride.
At least I wait until your dead and don’t drive the knife.
So smile wide, cherish time passing by, I will always be
just in the corner of your eye, a thought trapped inside,
ready to rebirth you, recreate a world with your image.
colors change slowly, dancing over wise walls
they’ve seen so many years before this and us
i would never use timeless in any sense but
there’s a feeling this place will long outlive us
our dust will be settled and memories faded
and these walls will still be standing too tall
holding every whispered secret close to heart
they’ll know how we laid here side by side
melodies washing over us like a steady low tide
my only grasp on reality your hesitant hum
home slowly morphing to become here and now
i have never loved anyone half as easily as you
and i hope this room will remember once we’re gone
letting laughter seep through the cracks into
the dreams of the next fortunate soul to find it
this has always been my room of requirement
you have always been some godly saving grace
but i am only discovering these truths now
having hidden half my life from this certain joy
you’ve broken me down in the very best way
and i just hope to keep breaking and breaking
reshaping into whatever peace you see in me
i want to be like you when i finally grow up
good and golden and as close to god as one can be
i want to hold a place among these echoing stones
my quiet voice trailing after yours, at rest at last
Alissa Martinez is a freshman at Pomona College. She has been writing poetry since she was six, when her first grade teacher assigned limericks to the class. While her early works couldn’t make it past the fridge, she participated in several poetry contests during high school, even earning an Arts for Life! Scholarship in her senior year. Poetry is her main point of contact with not only the world around her, but the world within herself. She hopes to write as long as she lives.