Scour

Life is Full of Losing and Misplacing

Bianca Llerena

Mermaids on cans of Monster, pirates and constellations, the bridge I sit underneath floats above like a ship aboard the seas. A bushel of dead mayflies lies on the sidewalk leading up to your steps. I keep to myself and play your favorite songs when I feel lonely. I made a playlist, but now it's gone.

Layers of pink rose wallpaper adorn the bathroom sink where my black hair lies. My phone is missing as it vibrates from within the house walls. I can’t seem to find the scissors I had in my hands. I just hope I didn’t leave them in the bed…

Walking through the park with a braid in my hair, the music trembles between my ears. I want to write a poem on the bench of men I pass each day on my way to work, but I fear it’ll end in a rather depressing manner. Instead, I wear a new hat each time and hope that’s all that they see. I was late to work this morning, and I couldn’t find my favorite one.

The old glass windows with black designs that sit in your kitchen are worn and tiled. It doesn’t match your style, which is what I like. We eat the dinner that you made and talk about the news, yet I can’t seem to find the word I'm looking for. The conversation fades.

The sea made of paperclips I made while mulling beside the phone is silver like the moon. My roommate and I sat outside that night and watched the neighbors leave for good. It was cold, but we were warm in our old sweaters and thick jeans. I wanted to tell her a secret, but the night was too nice to ruin. Sometimes a window is just good for looking in.