The Connector
The Connector

The Writer’s Corner features poetry, essays, short stories, satire and various fiction and non-fiction from SCAD Atlanta students. To submit your own work for the Writer’s Corner, email features@scadconnector.com.

by Rebecca Williams and Amber Pinkerton

Dolefulness, waiting for me there
Acrid reality, waiting for me there slowly lumping before my brown eyes.
Bare.
Without layers. A virtue to make on unsound again.
My perspectives are virulent to my health. My mind is confused by what my body feels. Vapidness is a constant, a common denominator and a sad truth.
An ungainly life seems most comfortable.
A troth to be a better person. How vacuous!
I am not half. I am not whole. I am zero, undefined.
Illusionary.
The gut-wrenching thought that I could go from so whole to so empty.
And even though I get tangled in the webbing of my thoughts. I have a claustrophobic space to give me breath.
I always lose myself around April and live in ambiguity until July, when the clouds clear from my vast sky of consciousness.Then I find myself in the pauses of poems and music.
Or find myself in the eyes of others, in their unsure glossy eyes.
I nest in the territory of discomfort and in my emotional darkness, I bathe.
Resting upon self-infliction, wearing smudges of it like my own skin.
My soul is sinking into the quicksand and peace is at its intermission.
No one knows though, that my brain yearns for a gate to escape into the streets where freedom lays.
Lately, my gold coating is running thin leaving holes for morbidity to seep through.
The holes grow bigger with every atom of a poem I write.
But I think it is time to shed the gold film and wear my soul.