Despite how hard I try, you are in everything. You are in the faces of strangers on the sidewalk and in the vines clinging to the brick wall of my apartment and in the clouds drifting above and in all the cracks of the pavement I walk on and you are even woven in the noodles of my soup. You are in my own reflection and in the shadows of my bedroom, and when I wake up in the night disoriented in a sleepy daze, I see you, and extend my hand out but instead of touching your face all my fingers do is reach for something that will never be there. I try not to think of you but you seem to slip into my subconscious, forcing your face to haunt me in everything I see and don’t you know that I can’t breathe and all you’re doing is reminding me that I’ll never be able to see or kiss or embrace you again, you’re squeezing my insides suffocating me and all I want to do is forget your face so I can just breathe again.
Hope Noelle Walker is a double major in writing & linguistics and English with a minor in multimedia journalism. When other people’s words aren’t filling her head, she writes her own.