Cinderella, sweet nightingale, it’s
true my heart is grieving, and I’m wondering when I wheel over to my window and see
oak trees and houses and children
and my neighbor’s anti-suicide garden,
will I w a l k one day to find myself outside these walls? Will I see the black eyed suzies take back the sun, have a conversation,
sit without being eaten
Three days stagnate until I find her – I don’t know her name, I don’t have a tiktok. I rewatch her post until the spine is broken:
a casual watcher would see a woman
walking to a stop sign
Listen to the gravel and see how each
clink of glass finds a beat in my starving heart.
I’m thinking keep going girl,
keep me going girl
~ Kristia Vasiloff