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  • Writer's pictureMolly Cole

void come quicketh

It used to be that the unknown scared me

That the void was reason enough to squeeze my eyes shut

Now it might be that the void isn't approaching fast enough

The unknown looms larger and larger as it is constantly in the future.

Building up

opaque like a wall of cold ocean

The past transforms in front of your eyes

clearer and clearer each passing year.

In my case

Hidden in pages

scrawled messily in the notebooks

in the second or third drawer

Of the oak bookshelf, my uncle gave me

I imagine its dark in there

Filled with the scent of wood.

Palpable and perishing


Outside the buzz of hummingbird wings inspires

Memories - which only grow in fondness

I get sad when I get too happy.

I get sad thinking about how much love I have to spare

For some people

And how when they aren't here

And I can't douse them in it

It still exists

And they know it

Distance changes nothing

That's why we can't teleport.

We'd be too much

Have too much love


I feel like I'm constantly saying goodbye

As if to imprint my love on someone

Needing them to know ill miss them

And that our time together was not wasted.

That it is thought about

mundane day after day

Sadness turns into happiness

When you listen to samba

And when you cut garlic just right

And when you tune into a wave of energy

Bursting at the seams at all times

When you reread a letter

Or an email

To or from an old friend

Or perhaps from a lover

You've never gotten the chance to love


Endings and beginnings are always the same

Void come quick

I long for you


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