By Cailey Tin
In high school, there is a list for everything &
one is elected in all that they
appear like, based on criteria
elected by the elected, like scrolls
of class officers, of people who are
into this & addicted to that, of kids
who are just there. The truth is
it’s challenging to school a blank
face. But it’s nearly impossible to
tailor lips pressed in hatred &
the day ends with a jolly smile
wiped off after I ask myself two
things: when mounting the lists,
will the air smell funny if you’re
trudging ahead on the path that feels
more exhausting than walking all the
way back & will it connect you to verses
that solve all problems & string you to
the period you’re already late for: starting
points? Does losing footing provide
a rope of its own? When knots are thumbed
down, do you suffocate from the hand
of misdirection or change your heart
rate, then recite every righteous
passage & pen an essay about
noble things you’ve done before
death (do you prepare for your
“finals” or strive to breathe?) Recall
the time a kid collapsed & you
blocked them from falling
down the stairwell, then remember
the good interests of your heart before
the blank slate was reverse-wiped so
you move backwards from the path
you had been taking that led
to the high school downward
spiral. You retreat & journey on like it
was the pace you stuck to your
entire life.
–
Cailey Tin is a Southeast Asian-based teen creative. A critical writing manager and spoken word co-host at Incandescent Review; she is also a columnist for Paper Crane Journal, Spiritus Mundi, and Incognito Press. When not editing poetry for The Borderline or Sophon Lit, she’s (imagining) chipping away at a strange new piece.
Diamond Gazette 