Poetry Corner : Notes from the Rooms in Which I Cried with my Mother


Illustration by Jayden Barnes

Isabella Porras, Reporter


our salty embrace like a 

dance while the toast is burning 

on the other side of the room.

but we don’t care,

comfort is all we know.



you tell me of my worth 

while millions of blades of dry grass pass us by.

waiting, yearning for a spark.

i don’t remember where you said we’re going 

my window is down 

i can’t help but feel guilty 

for everything, i don’t know

i tell you what’s clogging my veins and 

you ask me “can you feel the wind?”

i can’t feel it 

i can’t feel anything anymore.



the moment the lights went dim i knew

this moment was meant for us 

the bass took over our pulses

our bodies had no leftover space to fit our tears 

so we let them fall

i realize now that we have a relationship like a pitchy song 

catchy, but cant hit the high notes

we were different people when we walked out that night 

sweaty and full of memory

only ours to share 


Dining Room

that night you showed me 

all of the pain that caused your 

heart to ache in this way 

i know the way they took 

the way they took your utensils and 

you starved 

i’m sorry for what i’ve done

forgive me 

forgive me for what I’ll do 

how cruel of god 

to give you too much heart

and too much to bear 

im sorry—im so sorry 

i will eat the food you make me 

i am doing this for you