Capturing Campus: Post-gestation

new year, old her

scared of nothing

worth the fear

who knew nothing

of the world

watched with clean eyes

lucky

she knew she was 

but didn’t know 

the possibilities that mold and fur

on the tongue 

the promises of freedom

that smoldered 

like the end of a cigarette 

snuffed out 

walking by

faceless people dying on faceless ground

turning heads away from death

kicking change from Big Gulp cups

because there aren’t any Coinstars where we’re going

where we’re going 

some argue is already written

but the news is always new

always angry 

spitting words wedged between molars 

spoken without pause 

not meant to be held by a head

how can shoulders bear

the weight?

waiting for the refresh to stop 

circling the drain

staring at the screen 

calling it a friend

because who has friends these days?

red veins where the whites were

it’s time to go to sleep; dreaming in blue

forget today and tomorrow

the next day

too—late for living 

is this what the world always was?

we are told things were better

but were they ever

what we remember?

the skin she was born with

that was supple and growing

is no longer growing

but dying

bleeding with knowing

knowing all there is 

to be scared of

and there is so much to be scared of.