by Antonette Oliva (’23) | February 14, 2022

fray

the two of us

tethered by the past

a rope lies between.

strong and reliable

everything; nothing

we hold it together,

maintained through memories made

years go by

watching you from the line

you turn and grin

“you’re my best friend”

got an inch, but i want the mile

wishes remain unanswered

for you to change the structure

into something delicate 

enough to wound around our pinkies, 

a promise between two 

but an oath goes both ways.

and when i tie the string on my pinky,

waiting for you to turn, 

you keep holding the rope in your hand

and i am left to stare at your back.

sacred mission

he lights me up in ways

the sun never could

warm skin and bright eyes

pierce my soul not unlike

a holy ray

that God struck down

towards me

every moment in his presence 

feels like a test He sent

and i will spend all my days

proving to both of them

that i am worthy of his loving gaze

don’t hate the player, hate the game

does he love me

does he love me, not

pick the petals off a rose

that i pretend you gave me

the universe isn’t kind enough

to give me a sign

a number, a post,

a simple yes or no

does he love me

does he love me, —

i stopped counting when i found out the answer

i don’t know why i trusted a flower in the first place

another day

it’s almost like the entirety of the world is trying to remind me

today i am required to celebrate the epic that is love

it is february fourteenth, and it is a monday

i do not care when i trudge through the envelope flooded hallway

i do not care about the absence of notes in my locker 

and i do not care when nobody stops me at the door

but i still feel the february chill pass through the part of my heart where someone should be

the wind reminding me that i’ll still spend the day longing for something that i never had 

and when i cry into a tub of ben n jerry’s tonight it’s not because i got my heart broken

it’s because it never even had the opportunity to be held in the first place. 

school crush

the pocket of time between four and two

is when i get to catch a glimpse of you

skirt hemmed, long hair tied 

swinging from side to side

from my seat i can see your profile

and the sight always makes me smile

quietly watching you from behind

i’m content with you not being mine

it’s enough for me to catch you in the hall

i know i don’t have to have it all

admiring you is all i want to do

until this school crush isn’t you