Holding
My chest is a jug
carrying the
weight of tears
that have not been poured
out. They sit waiting waiting waiting
for what? No one knows, but they threaten to
spill out. Any day I will die again, burdened with the
tears that pull me down. The jug will then hold
roses, but while I watch the roses, others
will notice the lack of soil, the lack
of roots while the roses
wilt away.
Within
A firelit gaze
of water cascading
into riveting darkness.
I awake to sounds
of a hundred stones,
a firelit gaze
peering at me
between the lines
of water cascading.
A yawning chasm opens
inviting my empty shell
into riveting darkness.
About the author: Maribel C. Pagan is a 20-year-old college student residing in New York. She has appeared in Zaum, Persephone’s Daughters, Every Day Fiction, and others. She has also received the Junior Reading Giants Award, has made the President's List in Mohawk Valley Community College, and has received a number of other awards and scholarships. Additionally, she is the host of The Maddie Show on WLMU Radio, a Prose Reader for Apprehension Magazine, and a singer and musician for The Angelic Family Choir. Visit Maribel at http://therollinghills.wordpress.com/.
