Through the mind, through the water

Photo+of+Veronica+Iseminger+circa+quarantine+of+2020

Veronica Iseminger

Photo of Veronica Iseminger circa quarantine of 2020

Veronica Iseminger, Staff Writer

I remember for only a moment when my body had felt weightless as if I had become one of the soapy suds themselves.

 

 I remember like them-when that feeling soon dissolved. When I was once again anchored by the pit of my stomach inside the cracked porcelain arms of an off-white enclosure.

 

How I let the silky liquid hug my anxious skin in all of its motherly warmth.

 

I remember as time slipped further and further from my grasp, I had only wished more that those porcelain arms could hold onto me through the night, 

Through the next day, 

Next week, 

And into all the other night terrors that had yet to come. 

 

I watched the life seep through the pores of my best friend 

Watching as the soot sealed over her 

Would she be soiled with wet sloppy tears and ripped off by a heartache only she

knew?

How could I help cleanse her pain? 

Could these porcelain arms reach her too?

Would it be enough to rid her of her filth the same as it did to me?

I remember the state she was in

How dirty and troubled I was. 

 

And as all the warmth and serenity drips into the pool at my feet, I sense the swarm of chaos buzzing outside the door,

waiting to suffocate me with its rotten honey.