By Jessi Corsentino
There's a residue in the periphery
Of each day.
A constant background noise.
Every little red pick-up truck
Reminds me life's fragile.
The image I carry
Is a collage.
Frantic laughter,
Candy and Crayons
And highway sing alongs.
It's stapled to a second,
Bearing your full weight,
Falling, shaking
Sparkle and fight.
I was paralyzed by fear.
The truth moved
From the periphery
Into the white hot spotlight,
Perched on the landing.
And I had to face it.
The thinnest fiber
Keeps you tethered here.
The night we struggled
With your corset
I understood.
I still have 3D movies,
And your rhinestones at the cafe table.
I'm trying to ignore the second hand
Crashing seismic rhythm
Against what's left.
Jessi Corsentino writes and paints in order to process emotions that are generally suppressed in places like the suburbs. Her hobbies include loitering and offending people at dinner parties.
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