digging; graveyard shifts

by Annie Wu

cover photo by Elinor Kry, modeled by Safia Jaleel

i wonder if you were hollow before they buried your body

adipocere; waxy, grayish, and most importantly: don’t search it up

(i told you so)

almost the same color as the gravestone i can imagine above you

i’m not sure when you stopped reaching out but

i figured it was around the same time you stopped wanting to go home

you said it quietly but your skin, almost purple, gave it away

when i moved away i didn’t know how to tell you i was on your side

i liked it better when you could come to school without your smile

looking like it was cutting into your lip,

without watching space swallow you whole

chew you up and spit you back up

only to watch you stand up like your bones 

were snapping like a glowstick on the fourth of july

fluorescent, glowing, only temporary

a little toxic on the inside

you burn for everyone but yourself; die out a few hours later

i am scared i will see you in 3 months as only a gravestone

i am tired of digging those holes.