—After “I Am Vessel” by Pola Heredia
No longer can I reach the hand
offering help to the young
who need it. I remember the sky,
blue and clear in all its glory.
I miss my innocence.
Moss and fungus have grown,
seeking to conquer my infancy;
I used to be proud.
This must be Mother Nature’s
revenge on the human race, or
some other paranormal force.
I’ll have no choice but to carry the burden
of this well-earned punishment.
Is it because I never said goodbye?
Did mother finally break down,
after giving me the things I did not
deserve? She tried so hard, but I guess
I didn’t hold up my end of the deal.
I see the hand; I want to feel it.
Reach me and take me out of the
hole I’ve dug for myself. Six feet
underground, I’ll lay here forever,
until you regain the selflessness
to help me.
I want to be enveloped in your empathy,
want to be included within the warmth
you bring us. I exist, I exist—
I swear I do. I crave the feeling of love. Just
give me a chance. Ask me:
how does it feel to be lonely?
And maybe you’d heal me.
—
Piper Jameson has been writing poetry for the past two and a half years, and has truly grown to love it. She is currently in her sophomore year at Appomattox Regional Governor’s School as a Literary Arts major. Hobbies she enjoys aside from writing include reading, baking, singing, and participating in school sports.
