I wonder if its an illness to want to live to see regret, Egg on fate hoping it would respond, Looking for trouble for its attention, hoping when it makes impact that might just be enough to reanimate what you've buried. "Uh oh, you've given me thoughts."
Picking up validation
Grains of it, Like rice you spilled, All over my kitchen floor. Reaching under the fridge, Separating the dust from the kernel, Fistfuls of dust, For the one.
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The girl floated down the river, weightless, twigs and weeds getting caught in her auburn hair, matting and twisting in its curls. When a stray log passed her, narrowly missing her skull, its weight stirred her awake.
Green haze met her eyes. Above her were the bronchial patterns of branches. Light shone through the cracks, hitting the muggy water in piercing streaks. The air was too heavy to breath, but she sucked in a lungful anyway. It smelled of duckweed.
Twisting to her stomach, she reached for the water and pulled herself forward. An ache between her rigs roared awake. She remembers being struck, thrice, twice in the ribs and once to the head.
Someone was fighting her.
She reached for the log and let it hold her weight and closed her eyes, allowing the sounds around her to register in her mind, then opened them to see a flash of muscle leap between the branches, graceful and feline. Her breath caught as a word settled with awe and fear in the back of her mind: jaguar. Holding still, she searched the trees for movement, but all that swayed the branches now was a lonely breeze. It whispered its secrets in a language foreign to the girl.
The girl started kicking the water and paddling for the shore. Her skin singed at the knuckles, which were peeled raw, and up her arms, but she kept pushing for shore. The current aided her, but her breaths grew heavy and arms leadened. She rested briefly, letting the water carry her forward, and held onto the log. Angry red strips lined the back of her arms.
She smiled to herself.
Someone was fighting her off.
All rights reserved © 2025 Josephine Joyil
Line dancing
I ask myself why I keep deceiving myself into believing I like line dancing. “Toe heel step! Toe heel step!” On a loop, for thirty minutes straight. Oddly enough, it reminds me of doing math homework as a kid. I spin in circles, getting my toes and heels stepped on, And see the pretty blond girl Who dragged me here Smile for the first time in a month. I smile back. Toe heel step. Tow heal step!
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To be smitten
It’s the stumble before the fall. You did not know it would come, but now, as gravity draws you near, and you wait for pain to rattle through your outstretched arms — palms, wrists, elbows— you know there’s nothing else quite as real.
Curious eyes study you, taking in your answers, verbal and otherwise.
You look through their beautiful depths, searching for some sign of admiration, interest will do. All you find is curiosity, which couldn’t even keep the cat dead.
Perhaps you should confess now. How would that go? Spewing truths like you won’t have to be held accountable for the collateral.
“Cat’s out of the bag now.” You’d say, “Might as well let it play in the yard for a while.”
When you speak next, the room stills, just for a moment, for a breath to catch. Then the laughter erupts. You are relieved to see the curious eyes light up in delight with the rest of them.
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Burr
I feel snagged, Like a burr on a sweater, Buried in wool. Suffocating. But exposed to the cold All the same. Destined to stay stuck Where I don’t belong, Watching the world pass, Just out of reach.
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I think
I would've enjoyed this life more, If I'd done it all, When I was a bit older. "Foolish child, Don't you know that to grow is to live?" No. For there are no living pains, Only growing pains. "What has stopped growing, is dead." And what has stopped dying, Wont grow.
All rights reserved © 2024 Josephine Joyil
The One Where They Drove Home
They’d been sitting in silence for ten minutes, listening to the woodland critters come to life around them. In the dimming evening light, Anvi searched the space before her for details that may indicate a hiding threat: rustling of the trees afar to signify a hiding bear or the stirring of water to indicate the presence of some hidden sea monster. The scene remained tranquil before her, to her dismay. She needed chaos to stir the restless souls trapped in her body, squished between organs and muscle. Something to cause a ripple across the flat surface. She looked to her right, where her present company sat with eyes closed, no doubt soaking in the serenity of the scene as if it were some life force. For a moment, she wondered if she could agitate him into disrupting the stillness, heckle him until he shoved her into the lake or kissed her on the mouth. She’d take either one. It wouldn’t work, Anvi knew. Isaac was an immovable object. Nothing Anvi could do would provoke any response from him.
As if in response to this mute frustration, Isaac spoke, “Have you found what you’re looking for?”
“No.”
Isaac peered down at Anvi.
“I think it’s the monotonous pattern that will get to you first.” Anvi concluded, “Damn rat race.”
“No.”
“No?”
“It’s the realization that you’ve caved.” Isaac looked at Anvi with defeated eyes, “The knowledge that you could’ve pulled yourself out if you’d just – resisted.”
“And you think that would’ve worked?”
“Honestly,” Isaac dragged in another breath before returning, “I couldn’t tell you. But if you didn’t try, you have noone to blame but yourself.”
Anvi let the words settle. “This isn’t what we’re made for.”
Isaac let out a monosyllabic laugh.“Made for?”
“But of course, you think this is all incidental.”
Isaac said nothing.
“I’m not saying you’re wrong.” Anvi started
“But?”
Anvi smiled, “But if it’s all incidental anyway, why do we have to stick with the laid out plan?”
“Why?” Isaac’s brows furrowed, “See a way out do you? I’d gladly follow if you lead.”
Anvi frowned. “I’ll find a way out.” Her voice sounded small.
Isaac smiled weakly.
“I will.” Anvi insisted.
“Sure, sweetie.”
“And when I find it, I’ll come back to take you with me.”
The skies turned from a deep tangerine to a duller lavender. Mosquitoes were emerging from their dwelling, in search for fresh blood to feed on. Anvi had her shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders.
“Cold?” Isaac asked.
“I’m ok.” Anvi shook off stiffly.
“Hmm.” Isaac stood, “I’m getting a bit chilly. So I might head home.”
Anvi bit back a frown.
“C’mon.” Isaac half out a hand, “Well play a game of chess before calling it a night.”
“Don’t wanna play.” Anvi mumbled, but took Isaac’s hand nonetheless.
“It’ll be fun.”
“I’m just tired.”
“C’mon, Talia will worry and I don’t want to earn a reputation with her.”
The drive back from the lake to Anvi’s home was uneventful. Anvi watched the trees slip by.
“What are you thinking?” Isaac asked
“I’m just glad to be living in a place where greenery was just so readily available.” Anvi said.
“Yeah?”
“I lived in the city for a while, growing up, before Talia and I could afford a place with a lawn and all that.”
Talia and Anvi once lived at an apartment in downtown that was so locked in concrete that their apartment would often go days without visible daylight. Anvi was sure there must’ve been some urban planning law that was violated by such construction. The building was so old and so forgotten by those who might take issue with complaints related to improper urban planning. Nonetheless, it was a roof over their head, and an affordable roof.
“Talia had been a waitress at the time,” Anvi said. A woman of only twenty seven with a five year old niece to feed. Anvi was surprised by how detailed her memory of that time in her life was. “I remember I’d sit at the counter, coloring after kindergarten until Talia’s shift ended.”
“That was just- allowed?”
“Yeah, it was a mom and pop shop and the couple that owned the place adored us. The Stephenson. Their grandkids never came to visit so we were kind of the closest thing they had to family.” Anvi wondered if Mr. And Mrs. Stephenson were still well. They were so old when Anvi was so little. “In a way, they were our only family too.”
A short silence passed. Anvi kept her eyes on the passing trees. She noted that Isaac drove carefully, not going more than a couple of miles over the speed limit. “You’re a safe driver.”
“I try.”
“Wouldn’t have pegged you for a safe driver.”
“No?” Isaac challenged, “Why is that?”
Anvi shrugged. “Talia tells me I live my life like I’m made of china.”
“Talia drives like a madman.”
Anvi laughed. “How would you know?”
“I saw the giant dent on the front bumper of her Toyota.”
“Ohh, that.” Anvi said, sheepishly, “Yeah that was me.”
“No.”
“Yeah.”
“I have gotta know how that happened.”
Anvi peered up at Isaac, trying to decide if he was getting ready to laugh at her. There was a smirk playing coyly across his face, waiting to grow, “That might be a story for another day.”
“Don’t leave me in suspense.”
“Another day, Isaac.”
Isaac sighed, “Fine.”
Anvi took a moment before saying, “It’s a little embarrassing, but sometimes I overthink things and it gets me into more trouble.” The silence that followed remained Anvi’s to fill, “I kinda don’t want you to know how messy I am just yet. Is that ok?”
“Yeah, Anvi. That’s ok.”
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Go find the warmth in blue
Pretty pink hair and blue eyes that smile warmly. That’s all I ever see before the wind is knocked out of my chest and I can’t find the words to finish my thought. You wait expectantly, holding out a cappuccino, waiting for this transactional exchange to be finished. I ramble the first thing that comes to my mind, paying mind only to the cadence of my own voice, obsessing that it might match the warmth of your smile. The rock stuck in my throat tells me I have failed. Perhaps not all of us can grace this world with easy charm.
A song plays from the speakers, its hopeful notes will always remind me of you. Perhaps that is why I still play it when it rains: to summon warmth from the frozen skies on days that promise the opposite.
I know our paths may only cross briefly, but I will never forget what your absentminded kindness has made me understand.
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Denial
If I succumb now It’ll prove something about the world That I don’t want to be true, That I won’t wish into truth. So I stay kicking, Against the tangled sea weed Pulling me down By the ankles To the ocean floor. I keep my face Above the broken surface Knowing that my legs, Human and weak, Must fail me eventually, And that my breath Won’t hold out forever And that I must keep fighting for another second And then another more For if I succumb now I will never see light again.
All rights reserved © 2024 Josephine Joyil